


Hiraeth

by deformedbouquet



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Cults, F/F, Identity Issues, Journalism, Kara does not get to work for her BFF and old crush, Slow Burn, Spoiler alert Mon-El is dead, SuperCorp, There is ReignDetective here, There is no AgentCorp here, There is no AgentReign here, There is no ReignCorp here, Wolf Blitzer - Freeform, Work accountability what, angsty as fuck you have been warned, hello darkness my old friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2019-10-14 00:25:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 149,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17498156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deformedbouquet/pseuds/deformedbouquet
Summary: Kara tries to leave Kara Danvers behind to be the unstoppable Supergirl.Reign appears.





	1. Ash

**Author's Note:**

> Since I am insane, I decided to try to tackle season 3 which started out with a lot of promise and introduced a lot of interesting ideas and then sort of developed everything off screen before falling to the wayside in 3b. Slight AU. You'll know when you see it.

They think they know what happened.

She saved Earth and forced the daxamites to retreat. Mon-El understood. He nodded to her and told her it was okay. She told him it was okay. They didn’t make it to her escape pod.

Superman tells Kara that her decision makes her strong. He does not have it in him to kill a loved one for the greater good. She is the dutiful kryptonian, hand always clenched, ash sifting through her fingers.

She doesn't sleep. She thinks of the invasion, buildings blown apart, people crushed to paste under rubble. Broken bones, the smell of blood. She could not save them all. She is not a god. 

She patrols the skies. This is her life. This is what she was always meant to do. She is not a human. The question of can she have it all has been answered in the most predictable way possible. 

She is kryptonian. There is no time for self-pity. Her reserves must be spent elsewhere. She is the strongest being on this planet. She will stop anything and everything that menaces it. But sometimes, she cannot outrace falling concrete and steel beams, the last breath pushing past the dying’s lips. 

She wonders if she's a killer. An alien masquerading as a god, deciding who lives and who dies. Whose lives matters. She’s not meant to choose. It isn't the task she wants, but it's the one that's been thrust upon her. She has decided and not for the first time. She is everything and nothing.

It isn’t what she wants. _It’s what you chose_. Many days it doesn’t seem like a choice at all. Do nothing or stand for something. In the end she decided even bad humans were worth more than a few good daxamites. That was her judgment. It isn't her upbringing that helped her come to this decision. She doesn’t believe in holding grudges. Some days she isn’t sure she believes in legacies. She stares longingly at the Alura hologram, that stares back with empty eyes. She feels the heat of anger coming, but forces herself to go cold.

She ascends higher and higher, until she stops, motionless in the dark skies. She sorts through millions of voices, peeling them apart like strands of webbing, but she can't hear him. Why should she? She watched him turn to ash before her. His hand crumbling in her own. She couldn’t scream. She was frozen. When you are faster than anything the world moves in slow motion.

She thought her heart would stop but it didn't. Kryptonite isn’t the only thing that can kill her. Guilt can. Anguish. So why is she still alive?

Newspapers report facts: Supergirl repelled the alien invasion. But she knows the the truth, what won’t make it into the papers: Mon-El is dead and she killed him.

 

X

El-Mayarah. Stronger together, but she's going at it alone. She is an alien. There is nothing human about her, otherwise she would have had a heart. She would have chosen a friend over a planet of strangers. Who else will she sacrifice? Alex? Lena? Winn? She will always make the decision she did. 

She asks herself what her family would think. They’re dead and she isn’t sure if what she wants is to honor them, or rebel. She thinks they would be proud that she decided, as a kryptonian, for the greater good. Krypton was a collectivist society. Earth is different. America is different. This is her second home. She's spent more than half of her waking life here, but she’s never fit in. It would be easier if she didn't remember. She was naive to think she could be human like Clark. Maybe it was kryptonian obligation that led her to come out as Supergirl.

She didn’t have to. Clark was grown, but she wanted to fulfill her parents’ wishes, even if they disappointed and shamed her with their actions. Her father played god with science. And her mother stubbornly refused to see what was right before her eyes until it was too late, and they had to send her away. Every revelation about them breaks her heart. 

Kara thought she could teach Mon-El, the way she was meant to teach Kal-El, but she didn’t. Couldn’t. Maybe she didn’t make him strong enough, or maybe she wasn’t strong enough. She isn’t sure what marks her as a failure: losing him, or having made the decision to spare him and the other daxamites. She knows the answer, but she doesn’t like it. It doesn’t feel fair to anyone.

Some days she still wonders why she came out as Supergirl. Alex was angry at her for so long. The anger of despair. Eliza worried. Then she met Lena, and her secret identity made what could have been her one easy thing complicated.  

Was it ego that drove her to come out? Maybe an ordinary life as ‘just’ an assistant was suffocating. Even if she so desperately wanted to give in to it. To date. Meet someone special. Have girls nights out, even if her body couldn't process alcohol the way it would for humans. She never had the ability to be loose, and relaxed. She never would have that excuse for bad or irresponsible behavior. That she'd just had a few drinks.

Having a few drinks, if she could be affected that way, would be dangerous. She could take down a wall when she stumbled. Rip someone's arm out when she tried to regain her balance. She could kill someone. All reminders that she is not a human.

_Where the hell is Ponytail?_

She hears Snapper Carr’s voice from miles away, as bullets bounce off her, lodging into thick concrete all around. Bouncing back. Another one gone.

 

X

There’s a shadow, but Kara doesn’t look up from the computer. She’s two days past the deadline and the vein in Snapper’s head hasn’t stopped throbbing in three. Cat isn’t any help. _What do you want me to tell you, Kara, that not everyone is as easygoing as I am? You didn’t know how good you had it. I mentored you, transforming you from an occasionally useful weed to that small marigold you’ve grown into and— I sent that Aleve Teschmacher out for a coffee minutes ago and she isn’t back. I know you’re fretting about that little article, but I’m going to need you to start pulling resumes. And before you even think to argue, it falls into ‘other duties as assigned’._

Kara pulled the resumes, but hasn’t gotten the research she needs. She’s behind on interviews, and on the verification piece of the other information she’s collected for the article. She wonders why this life seemed so important to her. She isn’t very good at it. The weight of the shadow shifts, and she realizes she still has a pencil in her mouth from five minutes ago, lifts one finger and types with her other hand. She wonders if she’ll ever get to focus on just one thing at a time.

“I swear, the first draft is almost done—” She doesn’t say how long she’s been putting it off, but she thinks they know. 

“First draft?”

Not Snapper. Kara looks up. Lena cocks her head, smiles. “Lena.” Patience radiates back at her. It makes her warm. Kara stiffens her shoulders to keep it at bay. Brings the pencil from her lips to the desk. “What are you—” Oh. Yes. Dinner. The make-up dinner to the make-up dinner before that. Kara feels heavy. “I stood you up again.” She reluctantly looks away from the computer to Lena. “I’m sorry— I—”

“Have a very important first draft.” Kara couldn’t find sarcasm if she searched for it. “You didn’t pick up your phone. I stopped by your place and when I struck out, I thought I’d try here.” 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I may have gone a little overboard, but I was worried. You usually let me know when you can’t make it.” Lena looks around. The lights are dim, only a handful of employees on the floor. Kara tries to swallow the lump in her throat. Lena speaks again, lightly. “I won’t overstay my welcome, but I did get a doggy bag,” she lifts the small bag of food for her. “You’ll need fuel when you’re burning that midnight oil.”

“I guess you’d know better than anyone.”

“I do try to make time for play, but,” a rueful smile, “if you keep standing me up I might work enough hours to take over the world.” Kara stares at her. “Too soon to make that joke? Mh. It might always be too soon for a Luthor,” she notes somewhat glibly. 

Kara’s fingers leave the keyboard, taking the doggy bag with a grateful smile. “No. No, not at all.” Lena cocks her head slightly, waiting for more. “I’m sorry; I’m really busy.”

“Yeah, of course,” she nods. “I’m glad you’re safe and sound.” Kara looks at the plastic bag with food, trying to remember the last time she was hungry. The aroma of the food is making her stomach clench. “Let’s meet another time, though. We’ll do a rain check.”

“You’re not out of those yet?”

“For you? Never.”

“The food was a really nice gesture. I’d invite you to join me but…”

“Kara, you don’t have to explain—”

“I know.” She guards her silence some moments. “But I’m really behind on my work. I think Snapper might fire me again.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“He has.”

Lena nods slowly. “All the more reason for me to get out of your hair.” She turns, starts moving away before stopping, looking back at her. “Kara. You’d tell me if things weren’t okay between us.”

“Yes. Absolutely.” If she knew what ‘okay’ was.

“We haven’t talked about everything.”

“I know. But there’s not much to say. You helped save the world.”

“I opened the gateway that endangered it. I am sorry about Mon-El.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be. Supergirl pressed that button. It was her fault.” Kara touches her glasses; the weight on her shoulders is as heavy as the world’s expectations. “I’ll text you soon. I—”

“Don’t promise.” She smiles. “I’ll take your word for it.” Another long look, a bow of her head. “Goodnight, Kara.”

“Night, Lena.”

She goes. Kara watches, tapping the pencil against the palm of her hand. She could go after her, ask her to share the food she brought. It’s been too long since they caught up. Lena may worry, but in some ways she’s the best part of her life. She doesn’t know about that other version of her. Sometimes they can just be. _Go after her._ No. She won’t.

She looks at her hand, finds ash in her palm. She flings back from her chair. Or it only feels like she has. She’s perfectly still. Holding her breath. She forces herself to look back at her hand. Gets her vision to steady. Yellow paint. Wood. No ash. Lead. She lets out a hitching breath, dumping the remains of the pencil into the trash. 

She gets back to work.

 

X

“I found your special delivery.”

Maggie. Supergirl scans the city. Spots her thirty miles past, leaning against her police cruiser. “How'd you get this frequency?” She blames Alex for sharing what isn’t hers to share.

“I’m with the science division at NCPD and showed you the alien bar. I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“Why are you contacting me?”

“We need to talk.”

Supergirl lands next to her. Maggie nearly flinches. She drops her Big Belly Burger fries. “Jesus. There goes my one meal of the day.”

“What do you want?”

“What's with the attitude?” Kara stares back at her. She has reason enough. “Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but the burglaries, the robberies— all that stuff. I'm going to need you to back off. That's NCPD jurisdiction, not yours,” more quietly, “or the DEOs.”

“Then do a better job.”

“Give us the chance.”

“I give you that chance every day. I won’t let people get hurt to spare your ego. I'm sorry, Maggie, but the NCPD, the DEO? They're never going to keep up with me. It's better if I handle it.”

“Is it? Your Supergirl defense keeps getting thrown around. Those robbers you nabbed tonight? Their fists were battered. One of those guys is going to need reconstructive surgery.”

“They punched me.”

“Step out of the way. And don't hit back.”

“I didn't.”

Maggie shakes her head, takes out a cell from her back pocket and presents it to her. She recognizes the men, but not the bruising on their face, or the blood trickling out of their nose and mouth. 

“I didn't do that.” One of them tried to tackle her. Maybe that did it.

“Then who did?”

“You're the detective.”

“I am. So let me do my job. These drug traffickers you've been rounding up? They're just being replaced by savvier ones, and those that aren't are getting their cases thrown out in court. Don’t you have better things to focus on? Take a breather for a while. Booking can't keep up with you. The courts can't keep up with you.”

Kara's jaw clenches. “‘ _Take a breather_?’ We're not friends, Maggie.” That surprises her, but any hurt is swiftly buried. “Once you and the NCPD really start keeping this city safe? I'll back off.”

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing. But writing puff pieces on the new bakery—or hit pieces on my best friend— that's not why I was sent here. I was sent here to keep Earth safe.”

“Sure, Supergirl.” Maggie turns. 

Supergirl shoots up into the air.

 

X

_But Supergirl told me that **she’s** the one who activated the lead bomb. Not letting me include that in the article is unfair to Lena. _

_Oh, Kehra, I’ll tell you what I told Snapper: I don’t care. Supergirl is our cash cow and if we all want to keep our jobs here, I will not have you blaming her for saving us from those knock off kryptonians in gaudy gowns._

_But you’ll blame Lena._

_Luthor. Lena Luthor. My word is law so I owe you no explanation, but what we are reporting are the **facts** and there’s a reason lead was banned prior to this administration working its way in to rush us to destruction. You’re a journalist. You report the facts, even if they make your friends look bad. _

_But that’s not fair, Ms. Grant. Omitting key facts is misleading. It’s deceptive._ She touched her glasses. _The world already has a grudge against Lena._

 _Grow up, Kara; the world has a bigger grudge against Supergirl, or have you forgotten when she went on a rampage in National City? We need to keep her, and the people in our good graces. Now go away; I’ve lost interest in your moral dilemma. You should be thanking me for not making you disclose to the masses that you and **Lena** are practically joined at the hip. _A knowing look. _Or, that for far too long, Supergirl has been your only source of information. Snapper may be a bit of a toad, but even I have to admit that’s not good journalistic practice. If the world knew just how easy CatCo has gone on Miss Luthor— where would all that good will of before go?_

Kara touched her belt buckle, the metal tab, stopped herself from touching her glasses. _I don’t want to put a strain on our friendship._

 _It’s work. I don’t care about your friendships._ Then: _If it’s worth keeping it’ll survive this._

The article goes to print in a few hours. She doesn’t feel right. She sits in her office playing with a Rubik’s Cube, remembering the time Lena filled the space with plumerias. Alex made fun of her for days after that. Kara didn’t have a good rebuttal that didn’t invite more ridicule. There’s a knock on the doorsill.

Winn. Kara sets the Rubik’s Cube aside. It reminds her of the old days, the three of them crowded around Ed Flaherty’s abandoned office. Winn outfitted it for them. Back then they’d been their own small team, playing at superheroes, trying to save the world during work breaks, discussing new developments in hushed tones by the water cooler before spiriting over to that office. It was exciting for all of them. The two that knew her secret and found her special because of it. She’d been eager to not be normal, to be her new normal, before realizing she never would be. “What are you doing here?”

“I was fixing Cat’s internet. I tried to explain that I wasn’t on the payroll anymore, but eventually she scared me into coming here.”

“What did she call you today?”

“Finn. I think we give it another few years and she might get it.” Kara smiles ruefully. He enters the office, hands in his pockets, wearing khaki pants and a blue gingham shirt. Winn doesn’t change. She thinks of her second day at CatCo. He brought her a pocket protector and pens. Stumbled over his words. “It’s good to see you. I mean _you_. Not the other you.” 

Kara sits a little straighter on the chair. “I do have a day job.”

“Some of us weren’t sure you still did.”

“Some of you.”

“The usual people that hang out where the sun don’t shine.” He grins before it slowly vanishes. “Not that place.”

“Winn. Get to the point.”

“That’s the thing, Kara.” He gestures, takes a seat on the edge of the desk. “Not every conversation has to have a point. You’re my best friend. We used to talk all the time. Now we only see each other at that other place and… it feels like we don’t see each other at all. Not when you’re wearing,” he mimes an S. Kara doesn’t say anything. For the past six months this conversation has been playing on repeat, only her conversation partner switching out. “I miss him, too.”

Kara picks up the Rubik’s Cube again, spinning the rows without purpose. She’s not sure that she misses Mon-El. There’s been a dull ache growing in her since she got to Earth. That hole in her heart. That emptiness was the only thing capable of piercing her. Now she doesn’t feel it. Now all she has is numbness. “I was only his mentor.” She remembers laughing with him at the alien bar. The rush of sparring with someone she didn’t have to hold back with. She let him down. “You two were closer.”

“Yeah. You know, no ones blames you. You did what you had to do.”

She nearly talks to him about Kal-El. Doesn’t. Even Clark doesn’t understand how she could have done it. Maybe no one can understand her. She thinks of Lena sacrificing Jack for her sake, sets the Rubik’s Cube aside. “He really liked you.”

“Uh, yeah, he liked me because I took him out drinking. We were buds.”

Maybe more than buds. Kara smiles faintly. “Yeah. I’m sorry it all happened that way. Not sorry that I did it, because—”

“Yeah. I know.”

Kara feels wetness in her eyes, clears her throat gently. “I know you have to head back,” her voice is clear and steady, “but I’ll be patrolling on my own tonight if anyone asks.”

“Need a sidekick? I can stay in the van. The metaphorical van.” He mimes typing.

“I’m better on my own.” He gives her a look. “What?”

“It’s my job to help you with this stuff,” he speaks more quietly, “even before it was my job this is what I was doing. Because I wanted to.”

“Things change.”

“That changes? You’re… _you_. Stronger together. That’s your thing.”

“Clark doesn’t work with anyone and he does fine.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But _what_?” She’s exasperated. “I don’t need my hand held.”

He’s quiet a long time. “But what about… game nights and Kara time? That last shred of normalcy that was everything to you.”

“You’re the one who told me I wouldn’t get to have normal things. And I resented you for it, but you were right.” He looks sorry, ready to apologize. “I don’t have time for game nights. There are people who need me.”

“Someone will always need you. You can’t get to everyone. You have to take care of yourself. That mattered to you.”

“I was naive.” 

Winn shakes his head, slides off the desk to his feet, goes to the door. “I’ll see you later, Kara.”

She nods and lets him go.

 

X

 

“Can you hold the door?”

Kara jams a hand out, the doors touching her arm before opening again. A tall brunette in a fitted suit steps into the elevator, her brow furrowed in intensity. She gives Kara a grateful look before returning to her phone conversation.

“Yeah, I saw. Half an hour earlier than we were planning. With Maxwell Lord. Yeah. Yeah.” 

Kara fiddles with the strap of her bag, looking at the silver chrome of the elevator. It’s cramped in here. Her reflection is distorted.  

“No, the unveiling is still on. I just have to talk to my boss.” She listens. “The CatCo piece? Yeah. I saw it. It’s Edge’s lucky day. I could strangle that reporter. That’s what I thought. Maybe they paid her off. Yeah, we’ll talk soon.” She ends the call, slides it into her purse, lifts her eyebrows ‘what a day’ they say.

Kara licks her lips. _I wrote that article. I wasn’t paid off. I **was** paid. Lena’s my best friend. _She says nothing. The elevator doors open and they step out, the brunette stalking towards Lena’s office when she receives another call. Kara exhales, grateful to be out of the elevator, less grateful to be into the frying pan.

She doesn’t see the usual receptionist and heads to Lena’s door, knocking gently. It’s easier to visit on the balcony. This life, this balancing act is exhausting in a way she’s rarely known on this planet. Lena opens the door, her eyes bright. She hasn’t read the article. 

“Kara, what a pleasant surprise. Come in.” She touches a hand to the small of her back, ushering her inside. Kara dutifully complies. “I could use a little break with the day I’m having. My phone is ringing off the hook and I can’t get to it because I’m dealing with this unveiling today. To make matters worse, my receptionist has gone M.I.A. I’m a little all over the place.” She stops, smiles. “This is sooner than I expected to see you,” she points at the couch, “not that I’m complaining.”

Kara sits. _You might be soon ._ “I would love to say that I’m here just as Kara Danvers—”

“But you’ve got your reporter’s hat on,” Lena nods. Kara mirrors it. “Is this about the unveiling? You’ll have front row seats, I can promise you that.”

“Thank you, that’s— I have another engagement. Another work thing. I won’t be able to be there.”

“That’s too bad.” Her disappointment is only barely palpable. “But your work is important, too. I can’t ask you to sacrifice yours for mine.”

“Right.” She bows her head, takes the magazine out of her messenger bag. “I know you have a lot going on today, and believe me, I wish I didn’t have to be here.” Lena’s brow furrows, a puzzled smile. “But I didn’t want you to walk into an ambush during today’s unveiling ceremony.” She gives her the CatCo magazine.

Lena takes it, studies the picture on the cover, a black and white shot. She’s stunning, but cold, her cheekbones and jaw as sharp as glass, eyes distant. _Lena Luthor: Following In Her Family’s Footsteps?_

Lena’s breathing slows. Her heart is a drum, explosive. Kara doesn’t want to hear it. Her own breath burns in her lungs. “I didn’t write that headline.” She’s meek when she speaks again. “It went to print that way. I didn’t know.”

Lena looks up at her, smiles. “Editors have never been fans of mine. Do you mind if I—” she points back to the desk.

She’s never needed space to read one of her articles before. “No. Go ahead. Please.”

Lena nods, takes the magazine with her. She sits at the desk reading, each second, one breath stolen from Kara’s lungs. She breathes regardless, listening to the symphony of Lena’s heart, trying to cover it with every sound, makeshift barricades. There’s a man being mugged six blocks from L-Corp. She could go. She can’t go now. Is staying what makes her a monster? Is hearing what makes her a monster? Is deciding what makes her a monster? Would leaving make her a monster? She focuses on the criminal act. _That’s it, that’s it. I’m not holding back on you, I swear. Don’t shoot. Just shut up and maybe I won’t. Give me your cell phone. And that watch. Take it, take it._ Footsteps running away. Kara wonders if she should call or text Maggie. She can’t say everybody, everyone likes to tell her, as if she doesn’t know. Did she stay to soothe her own ego or Lena’s? The victim is still shaken. _Fuck. Fuck!_ She listens to his crying, buries herself in dark thoughts.

Lena joins her on the couch. She returns the magazine. “I’m finished.”

Kara smiles, her nervous tic, realizes she shouldn’t be smiling. Stops smiling. She wants to tell her that she fought with Cat to include the details of Supergirl’s involvement, that Lena herself wasn’t able to activate the bomb, but it seems like a desperate act of self-preservation; wanting to spare her own feelings instead of Lena’s. She won’t make Lena comfort her. She can’t ask Lena what she thought of it. She already knows. Her physical responses gave her away. Kara doesn’t usually tune in to those. Her control slips when she’s panicked. “I guess that hit piece you thought I wrote was two years late.” Was that supposed to be a joke? She wants to apologize, but can’t. 

“It’s business.”

“I know.”

Lena touches her hand, a graze of her fingertips and quickly gone. Kara forces herself to meet her eyes, see what hurt she’s put there, take responsibility. “I’ve benefited from your journalism in the past. The honeymoon had to end eventually.” Oh. “I understand.”

“Do you?” She hates how she sounds. Like a starved animal, begging for affection.

“I’m not going to lie; the timing could have been better. And I can’t say I was expecting to see quotes from Maxwell Lord _and_ Morgan Edge.” Kara doesn’t respond. She thinks of making her way to Maxwell’s office. The smug grin on his face. _Miss Danvers, what an unexpected surprise._ He knows who she is and still hasn’t outed her. Why? Is he saving it? He can’t be happy there’s another genius billionaire in town. Kara argued with Cat about using Edge and Lord as sources. _You have to admit, they don’t have the best reputation_ . Cat lifted an eyebrow, voice dripping with disdain. _Unlike your billionaire BFF_? “This is the article you were working on the night I visited.” 

Kara knows she could have worded that in so many different ways and chose that one. The kindest route. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you ask me for a quote? What about my response?”

 _I raised that point._ “The editorial board is worried that I’ve given you a mouthpiece. That CatCo will be perceived as having a slant. Edge and Lord are wealthy,” she plays with strap of her messenger bag, “and they’ve put CatCo on blast all over the cable news networks.” Lena looks back at her. “The powers that be are worried that our friendship has… compromised my ability to tell the whole truth.”

“And what is the whole truth? That I built a lead bomb to stop the Daxamites overrunning the city and in the process potentially sickened countless National City citizens?”

“The article poses the question but doesn’t assign guilt.” She wrote the article she was asked to write. The words intended to cushion any blows were sliced away in editing. All the paragraphs detailing Lena’s rebuilding efforts, the aid she provided those affected by the attack, gone. She feels sick again. Should she have quit on principle? Is it arrogant to resent being made to do her job? Did she not advocate strongly enough for Lena? What if she throws up. Kryptonians are stoic, even in great adversity. Maybe being on Earth has made her soft.  

“The question was just put out there, with no evidence to the contrary.” Kara’s breath thins. Lena squeezes the top of her nose. “Okay. I can’t think about this right now. I have an unveiling to get to.” She stands.

Kara follows suit. “I understand. Lena… I am sorry. I didn’t want to hide this from you.”

“I guess there are always bound to be secrets between friends.” Kara doesn’t know if that’s true. Maybe it’s just true for people like them. Maybe that will always be true. It makes her feel safe and helpless. “I didn’t tell you I was working with the queen of Daxam.” A beat. Kara knows she’s thinking about something, but Lena shakes her head, doesn’t say it. 

“I hope your unveiling goes okay.”

“So do I. It’s the least I can do for Supergirl. If no one tries to assassinate me, I’ll consider it a wild success. Yes,” she says lightly, “I know it’s a low bar.”

“Be safe out there.”

She smiles. “No promises.” There’s a knock on the door. “Come in—”

“Oh,” Kara says, “I’ll just—” she moves toward the door. The tall brunette from before enters, smiling in surprise at Kara. “I’m heading out—”

“Don’t be silly—” Lena approaches them. “I’ve been meaning to introduce the two of you, anyway. Kara, this is Samantha Arias, my new CFO.”

“Call me Sam,” she says stretching a hand out. It’s only now that Kara realizes how tall she is. She takes Sam’s hand. She has a firm grip. “It’s nice to meet you, Kara.”

“Good to meet you.”

“Kara works for CatCo magazine,” Lena goes on.

“You’re _that_ Kara Danvers,” Sam’s smile pales.

“Yes,” Lena says, “and we’ve hashed it all out. She has her job, we have ours. We only have the rare conflict,” she smiles to Kara, as if they were sharing a joke.

Kara breathes a little easier. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t have much of a career without Lena,” Kara releases Sam’s hand, plays with the strap of her messenger bag again. “She was my first assignment at CatCo. As a reporter, I mean.”

“I’d say Lena has been very good for both our careers then.” Sam turns to Lena, “Full disclosure, we met earlier in the elevator. She held the door for me, and I unknowingly threatened to strangle her.” She looks at Lena. “I’d just read her CatCo article.” She smiles wryly, glancing back to Kara. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Kara laughs, “You wouldn’t be the first to try.” Sam’s eyebrows nearly lift off her forehead. Maybe they think she meant it in a weird way. Her face is warm. “Lena should have someone that would threaten to strangle the person who writes that kind of article.”

“I may be a little protective of her,” Sam says. 

“It’s not just my reputation on the line,” Lena smiles. “But Kara, Sam and I—”

“Yes, yes, of course. It was really good meeting you, Sam. I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot.” Sam shakes her head. Kara looks to Lena, wishes Sam weren’t here, wishes she could say something to convey how sorry she is for making this day harder for her. A day meant to celebrate her other self. It’s a cruel joke. “Good luck today.”

 “You won’t be there?” Sam asks.

“She has a work conflict,” Lena says. “We wouldn’t know what those are like.”

Sam smiles, drops the CatCo magazine on the coffee table. “That’s one thing out of the way.” Kara moves to the door, opens it. “Hey, Kara. Your work conflict? Give them hell.”

Lena arches her eyebrows, gives Sam a puzzled look. Kara allows a small nod, exits, shuts the door behind her. “Oh, I plan to,” she mutters, heads for the elevator. 

She steps inside. The doors take too long to close. The elevator is smaller than last time. Her vision is unsteady. She has to text Maggie about the robbery. She searches her purse blindly, fingers grasping and she hears the crack in the phone. She pulls out her hand and tries not to shiver. Clarity. She isn’t sure if there’s too much or not enough. She removes her glasses, hears Lena and Sam talking even as the elevator descends. 

 _That was quite the article. Edge and Lord will be gloating about this for weeks_ _._ Sam’s disapproval is clear. _Nice cover photo, though._

_Let’s just focus on making sure this unveiling goes flawlessly. I don’t need to add fuel to the fire._

Kara settles a hand over her heart. The ride to ground level takes hours. It’s too tight. The doors to the elevator crawl open and she practically stumbles out. Slips her glasses on quickly, exits L-Corp, forces herself to walk one block and then two, until she can’t stay, barrels into an alley and launches into the sky, climbing higher and higher, getting further away. She looks at the world below. Cities. Countries. Continents. Small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. 

She thinks back to Cat Grant, years ago, refuting her dark side, her dark days, aghast at the notion of granting her personhood, autonomy. _You don’t get to be_ _a real person_ , she said. _You’re a superhero. You get to represent all the goodness in the world._ Her chest is tight. 

Cat was right then. Is still right now. Kara Danvers doesn’t matter. She’s a construct, patched together by a lost girl, leading a small, sad, lonely life, and not leading it well. She doesn’t know who Kara Zor-El is. Who she might have been. In some ways, Kara Zor-El died when Krypton did. Now all that’s left are fragments.

Supergirl is different. She’s a symbol. An idea. Ideas can’t feel pain, or loss. They can’t disappoint the people that care about them. Only inspire them. They’re everywhere and nowhere. They exist.

She’ll exist.   

 

 

 


	2. Waves

The phone screen is cracked. Kara doesn’t linger on her splintered reflection, preoccupied first and foremost on finding out whether it still works. She unlocks the screen, with a satisfying click. There’s a voicemail from Snapper Carr. 

_I don’t know why I have to call to remind you, but you’re expected at City Hall today. Two-thirty, sharp, kid. If I see you near the Waterfront you’re done. Get me something good. And remember to turn on the damn voice memo on your phone this time._

He’s taken to making sure her phone recording is on, while other reporters get by with just a pen and a notepad. _Maybe Supergirl hasn’t disputed any of your reporting, but I can’t find one damned reason she’d spend so much time with—_

_A junior reporter?_

_With_ **_you_** _._

Kara clutches the pen and notepad anyway. They’re a good reminder for when she gets flustered during news conferences and forgets her line of questioning, which is often. She thought it would get easier, but it hasn’t. Her heart always beats too hard, and more often than not, she feels her voice shaking when she raises a question. She hates it when people look too closely. As if they’ll know who she is if they take the time to look.

The unveiling at the Waterfront should be starting thirty-minutes after this conference with Edge and Lord. Kara doesn’t know why Lena is so set on it. It doesn’t matter, that false tribute. Maybe it’s a nice gesture, but it makes her uncomfortable. Even Clark doesn’t have a statue. She hasn’t saved everyone. 

She thinks of the man that was robbed, while she sat on Lena’s couch at L-Corp, weighing her choices. If they knew they would tear that statue down. She wonders what it will look like. 

She enters the City Hall bathroom. It’s outdated compared to the rest of the building, cramped and with worn wooden stall doors. Hearts have been carved onto it, with initials on the inside. Nobody did things like this on Krypton. Earth is outdated compared to there. It will be centuries before Earth catches up. She doesn’t know how long she can live on this planet. That long? She ages more slowly here. A lot more slowly. Will she watch everyone she loves die of old age? Likely she’ll die in an attack. A noble sacrifice. That’s preferable.

She stands before the mirror and stares at her reflection. Cheeks flushed, eyes deep blue and flat. She adjusts the collar of the cream colored blouse she’s wearing beneath her sweater. Green pants with a pink sweater. Does that work? She should know by now. She’s not going to ask Alex. She tucks the blouse in and out of her pants before leaving it out, attempting to smooth the wrinkles away. She delays until she can delay no more. She looks around hesitantly, before applying a dab of lip gloss, exiting to the lobby and returning to the steps of City Hall.

A small crowd has gathered. Reporters and news crews are camped out, setting up cameras and tripods, others thumbing through their notepads. Some of them chat amicably. Kara finds a small corner and settles down, the notepad in her lap. She looks around, starts mapping out the layout of City Hall before committing it to paper. She’s begun an outline for steps when a cacophony of shutters going off jars her to a standing.

Morgan Edge and Maxwell Lord appear, taking the steps up, brandishing charming smiles. A banner falls behind them _Edge Global & Lord Technologies: Ushering In A New Era Of Prosperity. _

Kara writes it down. Wonders if they’re looking to team up. Neither made mention of it when she spoke to them about the Lena article, but she hadn’t asked and neither is inclined to volunteer information. They unveil a model for high rises on the Waterfront. 

Edge preens before the podium. “Questions?”

A shout goes off as the reporters throw their hands up, screaming the publications they’re from. Their voices are heavy and piercing. She watches them, once again feeling as if the world has been sucked into a vacuum and she’s the only one that’s incapable of moving. She looks at her notepad, the sketch of City Hall. Her notes buried beneath. Every part of her is tingling and weak. She has to push to the front of the crowd. Maybe none of this matters, but she has to do this for Lena. And Snapper. Did Sam know she was going to be here? _Give them hell_ , she said.

Kara raises her hand, sees Lord and Edge exchange quiet words before Edge turns his attention to her. “Go on,” he drawls.

“Yes, thank you. Um.” She looks at her notebook. ‘Waterfront’ she wrote. Along with what the banner says. A hazy skyline of Krypton. Her heart thumps. She looks back to him. “Kara Danvers for CatCo Magazine—”

“They let you in here?” He looks around the area with a shit eating grin. “I didn’t know that CatCo Magazine classified as journalism.”

“Well, it was certainly journalism to you when you went on the record with us to discuss your reservations about Ms. Luthor’s lead bomb that helped repel the Daxamite invasion.”

Edge laughs haltingly. “I don’t believe that was my exact quote. But taking liberties, that’s to be expected with your rag, isn’t it?” He smirks, garnering a few laughs from the other reporters.

Kara flushes, hears the other reporters start to whisper amongst themselves. _Someone had to say it. If CatCo classifies as journalism, then—_ She shuts their voices off, replacing their words with the sounds of car horns in the distance, music in restaurants. But it’s too loud. She shakes it off. Or thinks she does. Is silent for moments.

“All right,” Edge grumbles, “next—”

“You and—” she glances at Lord, “Mr. Lord assert that this property development would help usher in a new era of prosperity.”

He taps the podium with his fingers. “That’s right.”

“But a look at your development properties establishes that your bread and butter is luxury condos and skyscrapers. There are people who live in— rent controlled housing,” herself included, “and others who have already been priced out of National City. Your going rates for condos, start at an average of thirty-percent above premium housing in National City.”

“Is there a question here? Honestly,” he grumbles, “where do they get you guys? Time is money, Miss uh— what was it?”

“Danvers.” She struggles to cobble her thoughts together. “You have been quoted as saying that the recovery effort is good for business.”

“When there’s work that needs to be done, there’s low unemployment. A booming economy is mutually beneficial.”

“But won’t you be devastating the economy of that city district by moving in this development? Isn’t it fair to say that you’d be gentrifying the area rather than revitalizing it?”

“Fair.” He scoffs. “I’m a businessman in America, not in some communist hole—”

He’s talking over her. She raises her voice. “You say you want to get rid of crime, drugs and homelessness, but what will happen to the people who were already pushed to the edges of National City? What will happen to their services? You’ll be creating more homelessness, more economic inequality, which are factors that contribute to crime when struggling individuals have to turn to illegal means to get by. What part of that—”

He grins, though his fingers have wrapped around the podium more tightly. He clears his throat gently, steps closer to the mic when Lord taps his shoulder. Another exchange of words before Maxwell Lord steps forward.

“Ms. Danvers,” he shakes his head, eyes twinkling, “how’s your sister?”

Kara’s blood freezes. “You’re not holding a press conference to talk about my sister,” she says. The reporters look at her. “She’s fine,” she says to the wind, more quietly.

“You have a lot of questions today. I thought you’d be at the Waterfront, writing another puff piece on Lena Luthor.” 

More chuckles from the crowd. She wants to take the CatCo magazine out of her bag and smack them with it. Their disingenuous-ness shouldn’t surprise her anymore. But it does surprise her, disappoint her. “I’m more curious about why Lord Technologies has aligned itself with Edge Global. You’ve never wanted to share the spotlight before.”

“Guilty as charged. But while Lena Luthor focuses her energy on false idols at the Waterfront, Morgan and I have plans, real, concrete plans for revitalizing National City. Let’s face it— National City is in a slump. And I don’t buy into that CatCo propaganda. Hundreds of people died in the Daxamite invasion and what did Supergirl do for them?” Kara draws a slow breath. “Nothing. She let them die. Crushed beneath buildings. Blown up in cars when she couldn’t stop those invaders from destroying everything in sight.” Yes. Yes. She remembers. She can’t think about it. Not now. Not here. “Those people died, waiting for her, but she never came.”

Edge behind Lord, stands taller, wiping lint from his shoulder. She feels tremors beneath her feet.

“I believe in the drive and creativity of the human race. How many jobs did Supergirl take from the hardworking men and women of this city, when she paired up with Lena Luthor to put buildings back together? Livelihoods are being stolen, every day, because we’ve come to rely on her, rather than working for ourselves. So how are we planning to revitalize the Waterfront district? With high paying jobs. With training programs. With affordable housing for those willing to work hard to get what they want, and with cutting edge technology, unlike anything Luthor Corp or the rest of the world has ever seen. We’re taking chances, and boldly going where no one has ever gone, by following our traditions and taking chances. The American way. Prioritizing jobs for longstanding American citizens—”

Explosions. They reverberate through her. It feels like her eardrum has burst. She looks around. Clear skies. Birds flying. No one reacts. Maxwell continues.

“The Alien Amnesty Act has diluted our economy, broken up our work force, and flooded our market with low skill alien workers, willing to take lower wages and push out our hard working men and women, usually for lower quality work. No one wants to admit it, but some of these aliens are dangerous—” 

It comes in, in patches. Screaming. So much screaming. She can’t hear Maxwell. He’s been drowned out by crushing steel, shrieking children. The Waterfront is under attack.

“Do you have anything else, Ms. Danvers?” Kara turns, pushing her way through the crowd. Everyone’s heavy and slow. “I guess she has better places to be. And with that, I turn it back to Morgan Edge.”

Kara runs. She searches for her voice but doesn’t hear it. A burst of questions. More explosions. _Don’t you think Maxwell Lord’s remarks could be considered racially insensitive?_ Morgan chuckles. _That’s not very generous of you. Haven’t you ever heard of best intent? Black, blue, gills or no gills. I believe in the American dream, and American currency spends just the same._

His voice recedes to the back, the horror of the Waterfront coming into full focus. She runs before she flies. 

 

X

Supergirl rips the hatch off the submarine, dropping down into the belly. Water drips from her onto the floor in a puddle. She tastes salt on her tongue; her lungs burning. On Earth she only burns from the inside. She set the submarine down, but sending in NCPD or the DEO could mean sending them to their deaths.

So she’s here. Alarms blare. Emergency lighting paints everything red. These halls are claustrophobic. She has to keep moving, even as the air in her lungs thin, as her fingers begin to lose feeling. It shouldn’t feel new. She shouldn’t feel this at all. She stalks the halls, and finds them, clad in black, these humans that would threaten countless innocents, for what? Money? She’s never understood the hatred and greed that festers on this planet, unchecked.

She can’t be angry, so she’s cold. They come in waves and she shoves them out of the way, their growls cut short as they slam into pipes, wander into open steam vents, yowling. It takes seconds. They’re down before they know she’s moved against them. They’re still. She scans them. No head trauma. They’re breathing. She moves on, stepping over them.

The alarms continue. She searches the ship and sees finds him five doors down with her x-ray vision: Bloodsport. With at least eight weapons strapped to him beneath his clothes. Not that they’ll do anything to her. She can’t even die like a human, unlike the others he’s taken out.

They say he’s blown up City Hall in the past. Ex-Military. She wonders how he could have defected. She can’t imagine defecting. She might have a life if she did, but others wouldn’t. He keeps getting away from her. He knows she’ll prioritize the safety of others before apprehending him. The DEO disapproves.

_Focus._

She closes the distance between them. He’s barricaded himself behind a locked steel door. She yanks it open, letting it fall to the floor with a clang. 

He cocks an AR-47. She can’t afford to have bullets bouncing around in here, bursting more pipes, melting faces off, setting off an explosion. There’s no time for talk. She shoots to him, sees his eyes grow wide. She’s so fast it must seem like she’s teleported. His surprise lasts only a moment, the gun whipped away from him. His fingers crack like twigs, but none come away. They’ve come away before. He howls, gripping his hand as she snaps the assault rifle in half, throwing it aside. 

He charges her and she sidesteps, his momentum making him lose his balance and crash. “You broke my fingers!” He spits, propping himself up on his elbows, looking back at her in a rage. 

“I guess that’s twice I’ve kicked your ass now. Get up.” She tells him. “You’re done here.”

  

X

Steel beams have collapsed. Chunks of concrete litter the area. Purses and shoes are scattered, along with abandoned bottles of drinking water. Red capes worn by children to the unveiling have been left behind. Fires rage. It’s a disaster.

_No one died._

Supergirl repeats the words to herself as she takes in the destruction. An NCPD SWAT team already swept in, along with the ‘FBI’. She dragged the men out from the submarine to make it easier for them, but it’s clear they don’t know what to do with this number of criminals.

Maggie wanders over in her oversized NCPD jacket. “Good job in there. If it weren’t for you a lot of people would have died.”

“Yeah,” she says. “It’s what I do.”

“You okay? You were down there a while. Below the water.”  

Yes. She should have drowned. She should have been blown up; but she’s here. “I’m not the one you need to worry about. I’m not human, remember?” 

Maggie lifts her eyebrows, bows her chin, shakes her head. “Right. I’m glad you’re okay anyway.” She starts to walk away.

“Detective Sawyer.” Maggie stops. “There was a robbery earlier.” Her voice grows quiet. “I didn’t get to it.”

“Why not?” Her tone is more curious than accusatory.

She looks around, takes a slow breath. “I just couldn’t.” She tells her the street and alley it was in. “He’s scared but he’s okay. If he comes in to file a report, you can get a hold of me and I can…” She settles her hands on her hips. “Back up his story.”

“I appreciate that, Supergirl.” They stand awkwardly another few seconds, not really looking at one another, no longer sure how friendly they’re supposed to be. “I still have some witness statements to get to.”

“Yeah.” 

They go their separate ways, Maggie making her way to a woman and a pre-teen, getting out a notepad and pen. Is that Samantha Arias…? It doesn’t matter. Kara turns her attention to the Waterfront, doing one last scan for any signs of explosives, damaged gas lines, anything that could create issues in the future. If journalism doesn’t work out, she can always fall back on any number of engineering disciplines. Maybe Lena would give her a recommendation. She finally allows her eyes to fall on the Girl of Steel Statue.

Somehow it survived. Maybe that’s fitting. Everything else has been destroyed, but the statue still stands. Supergirl looks up at her idol, gleaming and flawless, captured in flight. If only she was as collected. Her suit and hair are still wet, skin damp. She’s sore where the missile hit her. Her lungs burn and feel water logged. At least DuBois has been captured and handed over to the NCPD, for the time being. He swore as the police took him into custody. Screamed that Supergirl had broken his fingers. _She’s the real terrorist!_ _Aren’t you going to arrest her?_ As if they could. She stood to the side, saying nothing, finding it difficult to feel pity. Stealing tech to bomb the unveiling is low. There were families here. Children. Others.  

Her mind spins. Why would he do this? Who would do this? And how does she stop people from giving themselves to this darkness? She can’t sink into these thoughts. She has to stay calm or in her anger she will hurt them. The dangers in this world scare her. How many times did she promise Mon-El she wouldn’t let him die?

“What do you think?”

Supergirl looks at Lena, nearly impeccable despite everything that’s happened. She looks back to the statue. “It’s nice.”

“Just nice?” She smiles ruefully. “I’ll admit, this isn’t the impression I was hoping my unveiling would make.”

“Were you hurt?” 

“No. You arrived in the nick of time. That’s how it goes with you, isn’t it?” 

Supergirl says nothing. 

“When I saw you’d arrived and people were safe, I made some emergency calls. Making sure the hospital knew that any bills from this event would be taken care of. The least a venue can offer is some modicum of safety. I failed to provide that. I’m lucky, but I don’t want others going into debt because they came here looking to a symbol of hope. I have to help.”

She crosses her arms. “That’s good of you, Ms. Luthor.”

There’s a small, nearly imperceptible pause, before Lena continues, good-naturedly. “I try. Rarely succeed,” a small sigh, “but that’s no reason to give up. You haven’t. Were you able to hear any of the speech?”

Only in fragments, forcefully silenced as she tried desperately to listen to Maxwell Lord. It’s all wrong. “Sorry. No.”

“Ah. Probably for the best. I was a bundle of nerves. A Luthor praising a Super. There are people who would laugh. Some did.”

“I’m not.” 

Lena smiles. Supergirl stares before forcing her gaze away. “I guess this is to be expected. I can’t linger in the chocolate aisle without some assassin trying to take me out. I’m used to it. But my CFO is here. She brought her _daughter_ and if something had happened to either one of them—” she flexes her jaw. “They shouldn’t have to deal with this. They don’t deserve it. I was the target. Everyone that comes near me,” she laughs caustically, “I’m like a pox.” She wrings her hands.

The same thing could be said of her. “No, you’re not. You don’t deserve any of this. I admire you.” 

“Yeah, right.”

“I mean it. No matter how hard anyone tries to knock you down, you never give in. You never give up. You keep fighting for what you believe in. The good things, even when it’s hard.” She looks to the statue. “Maybe this statue is meant to inspire others to feel hopeful. But all this time, you’re the one who’s inspired me.” 

Lena blinks slowly. “That’s nice to hear after the thrashing I took when I opened up questions to the public.” She smiles, weary and earnest. “That means a lot to me. You keep me honest, Supergirl.”

“You don’t need me to keep you honest.”

Lena opens her mouth, stops when she hears Sam calling out, smiles apologetically. “Oh, that’s the CFO I was telling you about. She helped plan a lot of today. Not the bombing piece. I’ll introduce you.” 

Supergirl opens her mouth. Closes it again. Nods. Sam approaches, dressed far more casually than she was this morning. She doesn’t recognize the girl. The girl recognizes her. “Oh, wow,” the girl says, looking up at her.

Supergirl remembers when eliciting that reaction made her giddy for days. Now she doesn’t feel anything. Everyone’s impressed until they’re not. Supergirl issues a quick smile. Lena introduces Sam. They shake hands. Firm grip.

Supergirl focuses on Sam. “Are you all right?” A brisk, no-nonsense tone. Lena looks surprised. Sam doesn’t notice. 

Sam nods. “A little shaken, but still kicking.” The girl stares at Supergirl in wide-eyed adoration. “This is my daughter Ruby. I’m sorry she’s staring, but she’s a big fan.”

“Mom’s a superhero, too.”

“Ruby, no—” Sam sighs a little. “I just made sure to get you away from the chaos. It’s what any mom would have done.” 

Supergirl looks at them. Ruby’s Sam’s daughter. About her age when she lost her world, her planet, her everything. Lena smiles at Ruby. “For what it’s worth, Ruby, I think you’re mom’s definitely a superhero. I don’t know what I’d do without her at L-Corp.”

Ruby frowns in response. Sam notices, turns her attention back to Supergirl. “Thank you so much, Supergirl. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t gotten here when you did.”

Died, maybe. She searches their faces, remembers them. “No need to thank me. I’m here to help.”

Sam nods slowly, looks to Lena. “Um. Hey, Lena, I know we were supposed to go back to the office after this unveiling, but after explosions and talking to the police— It’s been a rough day. I need to take her home—”

“Oh, my God,” Lena shakes her head, “of course you’re not expected back at the office after this. Do whatever you need to do.”

“I’ll make the hours up tomorrow and this weekend—” Sam says.

“We were supposed to go to the ice rink this weekend,” Ruby says.

“Ruby, not now.”

“I’ll see you back at the office tomorrow AM. And if you need to take a little extra time—”

“I won’t. _Thank you,_ ” Sam smiles with a relief. She looks to Supergirl. “It was amazing meeting you.” Lena’s phone rings. She looks at it, frowns, excuses herself and takes a few steps away. Sam glances at Lena, before returning her attention to Supergirl. “Thank you in advance for all those other times you’ll surely save me and the rest of the city without my knowing it. I know I’ll never be able to repay you, but…”

Supergirl draws a slow breath, nods to Ruby. “Take care of her,” she tells Sam. Hesitates. Looks to Ruby who’s still pouting. “You were very brave today.” She wonders if she sounds as stilted to them as she does to herself.

Ruby smiles, she and Sam go on their way. Sam stops, touching Lena’s arm gently before departing for good. Lena smiles brightly, waves before her expression dims again, phone pressed tightly to her ear. Several news crews start to roll in. 

 _I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about the attack on the Waterfront. We may be rivals but that doesn’t mean we can’t get along. I’ll tell you what._ _If your stocks start to take a ding, I’ll take some off your hands. No hard feelings._

Lena clenches her jaw, voice controlled. “How thoughtful of you.”

He chuckles. _What can I say? I’m a gentleman. It’s a shame that the property housing a Supergirl statue was destroyed not even minutes into the unveiling. Tell me something, Lena. Does Supergirl draw bad people, or is it you? I wouldn’t ask, but— you_ ** _are_** _a Luthor._

Lena ends the call, stands motionless, phone clenched tightly in her hand. Her fingers are white. Supergirl breathes. It was Edge. She waits. A minute passes. Two. Lena’s face is expressionless. The color slowly returns to her fingers. She can’t wait anymore. “Everything okay, Ms. Luthor?”

Lena smiles. “Everything’s fine.” 

X

 

Kara’s been out of the shower only minutes when she walks out to the living room. Alex is there. Kara stops toweling her hair. “What are— how did you get in here?”

“I knocked and you didn’t open.” Kara wonders if Alex thinks any person could be sane, listening to every sound over hundreds of miles at the same time, at all times. “I used the spare key.”

“You shouldn’t walk in like that.”

“Why not?”

“What if I was doing something?”

“What could you possibly be doing?”

Kara flushes. Everyone knows she doesn’t have a life. They don’t try to hide it. She sets the towel aside.

“Well?” There’s anger behind the exasperation. “Are you okay?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m okay. I’m incapable of _not_ being okay.”

Alex narrows her eyes. “You let Bloodsport be taken in by the NCPD.”

“He’s a human.”

“We’ve been tracking him for _weeks_.”

“He’s a _human_. And the last time I checked, that doesn’t fall into the purview of the DEO.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is. But the DEO likes to bend the rules.”

Alex licks her lips, walks further into the room. Looks at Kara’s glasses on the coffee table. “It sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“I do. But I’m sure you’ve come here to tell me I don’t. So why don’t we skip to _that_ part?” Kara runs a hand through her hair. Alex steels her jaw. “Because I’d rather do that than see the puppy eyes while you try to play therapist.”

A long silence. She’s hurt her. She should feel more about it, but she doesn’t. 

“Okay. You’re angry. I should have knocked. But in my defense, I’m worried about you.”

She won’t bother pointing out it’s far from the first time she’s walked in. “Not this again.”

“Kara. You’re not yourself. I know you’re hurting. Isolating yourself, removing yourself from _everybody_ who cares about you. That’s not going to make the pain you’re feeling go away. All this time later and you haven’t even cried—”

“Because I’m _fine._ I can’t _be_ hurt. I don’t _feel_ any pain. I don’t feel _anything._ Stop worrying. Or don’t, I don’t care. I’m so tired of having to monitor your every mood. You’re not the only person to have lost someone. You have a bad day, you go to the bar and drink. Not everyone has that option.”

“Yeah,” Alex says softly. “Yeah. Some of us just… pick up guys we’re pissed at. Leave them behind on a freighter in the middle of the ocean.”

Kara pauses, picking up a cushion from the couch, readjusting it. So they slipped another tracking chip in her suit. Typical. “You’re right, I should have just taken him to the DEO. Let him sit in a cell for months without going to court, setting a hearing. Let you and J’onn poke him a little.”

“You’re not thinking straight, Kara. I mean— why that guy? Sure, he’s a sleaze, but, you can’t go after Lena’s enemies. Or the guys who show us up on TV. We don’t get to do personal vendettas.”

Kara whips her head to look at her. “You don’t get to lecture me about personal vendettas. You think this was about the _interview_? It wasn’t personal. I know he had something to do with the attack on the Waterfront. He could have killed someone and he didn’t care.”

“Even if that is true, you stopped him.”

“For now.”  

“You need to take a step back from all of this.”

“Stay out of it. I’ve got it under control.”

“You have it under control, huh?” She takes her cell phone out of her pocket, loads up a video. Morgan Edge on CNN, looking less frazzled than he did when she threw him onto one of the cargo containers. He scrambled away from her, eyes wide, looking up at her in the sky. _Are you fucking crazy?_ He clutched his arm. _Do you know who I am?_

The video starts. _“Breaking News in the Situation Room tonight. Morgan Edge, CEO of Edge Global has joined us. Morgan, you claim Supergirl kidnapped you and took you to a freighter in the middle of the ocean, but do you have any proof of that? By all accounts, crime in National City has gone down sixty-five percent since the Daxamite invasion. Why would Supergirl turn to crime? And why would she target you?”_

 _“I’m not a criminal mastermind; I couldn’t tell you. I’ll tell you what I do know, Wolf. It’s not the first time she’s gone nuts.”_ They pull up a picture of her in the black kryptonian suit, laughing as NCPD cruisers burn behind her. Morgan continues. _“We know Lena Luthor unveiled a statue of her today. By Lena’s own estimations they’re close. Lena Luthor has a vendetta against me, and now she’s using her pet alien to hunt down her opponents.”_

_“I’m hearing a lot of speculation, but nothing concrete, despite the connection you seem to think they have. Did Supergirl hurt you?”_

_“You think you can be shuttled through the air, faster than a speeding bullet and be all right?”_ He pulls at his collar _. “I’m a big guy but she threw me down like I was a sack of potatoes. We’re nothing to these kryptonians, Wolf. And just think, now we have a Luthor in control of one.”_

_“Frightening, if true. I know Lena Luthor had a difficult day at the unveiling for the Girl of Steel statue. What do you say to that?”_

_“It’s just funny how these things keep happening to her, isn’t it? Lena Luthor loves to be a victim. For all we know she set those detonations off herself to draw attention to her little unveiling. I’m not going to say that she’s a sociopath, but psychosis does run in her family.”_

_“Certainly her brother, Lex Luthor, previously of Luthor Corp is behind bars and her mother, Lillian Luthor, head of Cadmus remains on the run. But back to the issue at hand. What are the next steps for you? Will you be talking to the police?”_

_“I’ll be consulting with my lawyers. And trying to keep out of that kryptonian’s crosshairs.”_

_“Well, uh, you stay safe, Morgan. We’ll be monitoring this situation closely. Supergirl, if you’re watching,”_ they switch the picture from the red kryptonite haze to one of her with a puppy in her arms, _“we’d love your perspective. If you’d like to call in or come on our show so we can get your side, we’d be happy to talk to you. After the break we’ll be gathering our panel to discuss the attack on the Waterfront today. You’ll never guess what Supergirl lifted this time. Morgan, you’re welcome to stay for that. But first, the touching story behind the homeless man who donated his liver to a billionaire for a lifetime’s supply of Starbucks gift cards—”_

Alex stops the video. Kara frowns. “Do you see why I need you to be careful with this? You’re going to be the topic of discussion for talking heads for the next month with this crap.”

“I didn’t hurt him.” 

“You just absconded with him!”

She shakes her head. “I’m not going to stop helping people to impress _Wolf Blitzer,_ or get on Morgan Edge’s good side.”

“I _know_ you and Lena are close, but you can’t have the world thinking you’re close to a Luthor. I know it’s unfair, but the optics are bad. They would be afraid of you. More afraid of you than they already are. I’m not saying that to hurt you. Most of the world loves you, Kara, but people like Edge will prey on people’s fears to demonize you, to demonize her. There are people who believe in Cadmus’ mission everywhere. It’s not popular to say it, but they exist and they thrive when this crap happens. That’s why you can’t operate outside of the DEO. Let us guide you. You’ll stay out of trouble that way.”

Kara looks at her, dazed. She rubs her forehead. “I don’t work for you. I work _with_ you.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing right now. Kara, just talk to me. Let’s talk about what happened.”

“No. I want you to leave.” Alex thins her lips, shakes her head, goes to the door. “Alex?” Alex stops, looks back at her. “Leave the key.”

She leaves the key. She leaves. Kara glances at her phone on the coffee table. Three missed voicemails, all from Snapper.  

X

She didn’t turn her voice recorder on. She lost her notes. She has no story.

_Do you realize you made CatCo look as if we sanction their xenophobic bullshit when you didn’t push back? What’s the matter, don’t care about aliens anymore now that you’re friends with Lena Luthor?_

She was too stunned to argue. She sat, her throat turning to stone.

 _You didn’t even get the story, you_ ** _became_** _the goddamn story._ Snapper furiously wiped his glasses clean. _What kind of a reporter leaves a press briefing, mid briefing? Mid response from the questions they asked?_

_I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t go to the Waterfront._

_Is that supposed to be a joke? You are hanging on by a very short thread here, Ponytail. Now get out of here. I’m sick of looking at you._

Supergirl sits on the floor of the DEO, leaning against the wall, playing with her fingers. The Alura hologram watches her. Kara rarely goes to the DEO these days, but when she does visit, sometimes it’s only to be here, to see her. 

She wants to cry but she can’t cry. She can’t break, so she won’t talk. So she sits, alone and miserable, comforted.

 

X

In her free time she tests herself by going to the aquarium. She likes the deep blues. It's easier for it to be quiet here. Beluga whales float by. She feels a kinship, beneath the water. She sees it as a stress test, one she will overcome. She has her own fears of quiet.

When she came to Earth she loved aquariums. Now she no longer knows what to think about them. These beautiful creatures are contained, held captive to captivate humans. Her, too, maybe. She visits after every attack, scans for any infrastructure damage. She’d hate for something to harm the animals. She thinks the caretakers here are kind and well meaning. Maybe the same could be said of the DEO. But maybe cruelty is cruelty, regardless of intention. As far as she knows, the caretakers at the aquarium don’t kick and starve the animals.

She sits on the bench. She’s early. She’s waiting for an emergency, some crisis to pull her away. She knows she could find one if she wanted to. If she searched far enough, if she let the anguish of the world crash over her like a tidal wave. But she’s still. 

Lena sits next to her, far enough that a third person could sit between them. Neither one of them says anything. Though Kara, if she focuses, can see Lena’s reflection in the glass. Can feel her gaze before it turns to the water. Light shimmers in the darkness, coming in waves. Kara licks her lips, but can say nothing.

This aquarium was the first place they met as friends. Post Clark’s piece after the initial assassination attempts, following her own article on the alien detector. Kara had been heading out her office door at L-Corp when Lena stood. _Kara. What do you say we meet outside sometime?_

_Outside?_

_Yeah. I’m new to National City— you’re nice._ Her smile was bashful, cheeks flushed. _It’d be nice to have a friend. Or make a friend, if you’re not quite there yet._ Kara was flummoxed, flustered the way she so often got around her. _Of course, you just wrote a favorable article about me. I’d hate to put you in a difficult position. If—_

_I’d like that._

_Yeah?_

Kara smiled. _Yeah. Let’s set something up._

They exchanged numbers, somewhat nervously. When she mentioned it to Alex she was skeptical. _She’s a Luthor. Just be careful, please._ Kara suggested a coffee shop. Alex joked that it sounded like a date. She made too many nervous jokes that Kara didn’t understand at the time. Lena later suggested the aquarium. They met out front. _You made it,_ Lena said. Kara wondered if she was just as accustomed to being stood up as she herself had been, when she thought she could be Kara Danvers, meet people. Date. 

“It’s so peaceful here,” Lena says.

Kara looks at her in the reflection. “I think so, too.”

“Did I ever tell you how I discovered this place?” Lena asks. Kara shakes her head. “It was right after I’d re-branded Luthor Corp to L-Corp. You told me not to hold that press conference.”

Yes. She knew someone was planning to assassinate her. She finds a small smile. “Not that you listened to me.” She didn’t listen about the gala, either.

“Maybe I should have.” She shakes her head, disputing the statement as soon as she’s said it. “I know I talked a big game to Clark Kent about having shot John Corben, but at the time I was petrified. The press wouldn’t leave me alone. One day they were following me, relentlessly. I ducked in here.”

“And here you are with a journo.”

“My favorite journo.”

Kara looks at her, the reflection of the water light flickering over her face like a prism. The story she wrote, that was savaged to make CatCo not look like they had a slant, was immediately trashed by the men who helped turn it into a hit piece, on live tv. Whatever footing she may have gained with CatCo was immediately lost. All she did was hurt Lena. What was the point? She tries not to feel resentful over little things. But in this instance it doesn’t feel so little. Weeks of work and emotional labor, gone in minutes. “I got you something.” Lena arches an eyebrow gently. “It’s nothing special.” She touches her glasses, leans down to rummage through her messenger bag. She pulls out a small box, pastel blue, and extends it to her.

Lena touches the box but doesn’t pull it away. “What’s this?”

“I know I haven’t been very available lately. Even after what happened at the Waterfront, it took too long to check in on you.” Days. Was Alex in her head? Was Morgan Edge? Is it only her desperation to cast aside this persona she masquerades at? Regardless of the reason, it eats at her. She bites her tongue, lowers her eyes before lifting them. Lena’s meet them steadily. “I’m sorry.”

“You brought chocolate,” she smiles slowly. “All is forgiven.” She opens the box, looking at the four truffles inside, makes a small sound of content.

“I haven’t tried them all, but the triple chocolate is really good.”

“You can never go wrong with _triple_ chocolate. They’re gorgeous. Thank you, Kara. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to.”

“Then let me impose on you some more and demand that you help me eat them.”

Kara nods, smiles. “Okay.”

“Let’s start with…” she looks at the map. “Raspberry cheesecake. Do you want to bite it first?” Kara looks at her. “The truffle. These are huge. All right, I’ll be bold, but I don’t want to be accused of having passed along cooties.” She takes a bite, savors it, nodding with approval before holding it out to her. “If it grosses you out, you don’t have to have it. It _is_ delicious.”

“Gimme that.” She takes it, tries it, finds the bitterness of the raspberry, the soft sweetness of the cheese, but something more. Maybe the decorative zag of red color over the top. “It’s good.” Even if it doesn’t taste like cheesecake.

“To think you almost passed it up.”

She’s used to passing things up. “Luckily for me, you’re persuasive.” A beat. “How are you feeling after everything that happened at the Waterfront?”

“I’m starting to think I should travel exclusively via Popemobile.” A soft sigh as she sets the chocolates between them. “All I wanted was for this unveiling to go well. To honor Supergirl without having to call her there. If this were baseball I’d have…” she searches for the phrase.

“Struck out?” A grateful nod. “You didn’t call her there.” She flattens her hand against the bench. “I mean— unless you actually did call her there.” She flushes at the lie.

“I know, but she must be tired of me. For all I know she’s pushing me into an early retirement at this point.” Lena smiles grimly, watching the beluga whale. “I’m not even sure she liked the statue.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” 

Lena doesn’t respond for a long time. “You know, every time I think I’m getting my life back on track, something comes along to disrupt it. I’m a scientist, but sometimes I wonder if I’m cursed. No matter how hard I try, I can’t ever seem to get away from this notoriety. I hired a new CFO, so I could try to not do everything myself. So I could let go of some control, spend more time in the lab, doing something productive and good. I spent ages on that statue.”

 ~~“It’s nice.”~~ “You did a good job. It’s still standing.”

“You know what’s the worst thing? I mean, there were several worst things about that day. That Waterfront property is destroyed. People who gathered there to rally around a symbol of hope went away frightened. And while Supergirl arrived and was able to inspire them, there’s a fear that may not ever go away that was planted. That danger can befall them on any day, no matter how innocent, and well meaning. To make matters worse, Sam’s daughter, Ruby? She’s a massive Supergirl fan. I told her she should bring her down for the unveiling and she was witness to such… an awful, terrifying thing. Fires were burning, explosions going off. No child should be subjected to that.”

Kara swallows, nods stiffly. “What happened was awful, and I’m sorry she had to see it, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“That’s what Supergirl said.”

“Well. You should believe her.”

A small sigh. “Okay, I have to tell you something that I’ve been running through in my head; I haven’t been able to sleep it’s so mortifying.”

Kara squints her eyes at her. “JNCO pants are back? I saw that on Buzzfeed.”

Lena laughs. “Maybe not quite that terrible. So I’m at the unveiling, right? Or what’s left of it. And I see Sam and Ruby. And I tell Supergirl ‘let me introduce you’.”

She doesn’t get it. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Are you sure? Because, I thought— you know, Supergirl doesn’t know me from Adam.” Kara thinks back to Adam. He told her no one ever feels normal. It was one of the kindest things anyone had ever told her. “She may have plucked me out of a sky or two, but who hasn’t she rescued? I’m not special. And I see Sam, and I say to Supergirl, ‘let me introduce you’ as if— I don’t know, as if we had that kind of relationship. She must think I’m such an idiot. And if not that, presumptuous. I’m not sure which one’s worse.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t think either of those things. Maybe what she saw is that you really care about the people who work for you.” Even those who don’t. It’s just like Lena not to mention that she covered hospital bills for those in attendance. 

“I know Supergirl and I aren’t exactly friends. Maybe it’s a bit of fanciful thinking on my part, but she’s been good to me. Outside of you, and Sam, more recently, she’s the only one who’s ever had a kind word for me. Sam’s my employee; she’s too smart to mouth off.” She shakes her head. Kara wonders what the world would think if they knew how Lena struggled sometimes. The confident persona she projects is sometimes only barely holding together.  “Supergirl will never know what her faith has meant to me.”

“I think Supergirl is lucky to know you.”

Lena smiles. “I’m not so sure. Have you watched cable news recently?” Kara allows a small wince. “I’m not sure why they bother to give that windbag any airtime. You know, go on TV, slander me all you want, fine. It’s not exactly new. But now he’s using my relationship with Supergirl to sully her name. Pretend that she’s some kind of… enforcer for me.” Her words heat. “It’s so unfair to her. All she’s ever done is the right thing. And because she’ll stand up for anyone— even a Luthor— he’ll use that to diminish her. I feel awful.”

“Okay, but Morgan Edge… isn’t exactly a paragon of virtue. He’s a jerk.  Who cares what he thinks?” Her cheeks heat, knowing Lena hasn’t forgotten that she interviewed him for the CatCo piece. 

“Unfortunately the answer is ‘a lot of people’. He’s a man, and a wealthy one at that. One of the ‘sexiest and most eligible bachelors in National City’,” she rolls her eyes. “And for reasons, that makes his word more credible than a woman’s. Especially one with my last name.”

“The world’s unfair. We don’t always get to choose our names or our families. All we can do is live our lives in a way… well. I guess in a way that really honors what we want out of it. What we want to give.” She shakes her head. “I know the stuff with Edge must be frustrating. And I know it must be especially frustrating when your friend quotes him in an article that doesn’t paint you in the best light—” 

“My _best_ friend.”

Kara smiles. Looks away. Gets herself together. Looks back to her. “But you can’t let him change you. You can’t let him interfere with your life. Or … change your personal relationships. If you do, you’re giving him too much power.”

“I know all that.” She chuckles softly. “Admittedly, it resonates a little more when it comes from you. Thanks for the reminder.” Kara nods. Lena picks up another chocolate. “Want to know something terrible?”

No. “Yes.”

“I know I shouldn’t say this out loud, because I don’t want to lend any credence to his preposterous notion that somehow Supergirl would lower herself to be a personal hit person for me, but seeing him on CNN, being a complete drama queen, whining about Supergirl leaving him stranded on a freighter? I laughed. I wish I could have seen the look on his face when she took him away on that little adventure.”

Kara wishes she could tell her about it. How red his face got, how he shrieked when she flew him away. “He said a lot of awful things about you on that show.”

“I have to give it to him: he won’t say to the world what he hasn’t already said to my face.”

“Are you worried he’ll make good on what he said? Getting lawyers?”

“To do what, exactly? Connect me to Supergirl? He can’t do it. He’s bluffing.”

Kara shifts on the bench thinking of Maxwell Lord. How much does he share with Morgan Edge? She doubts _that_. For the leverage it grants him alone. Maybe she’s naive. They both consider her an enemy. “Yeah. You can handle him.”

“I certainly can.” Her voice is colder than she expected, but when Kara looks at her, she’s all warmth. “ _But_ , we’ve spent all this time talking about me. What do you say we talk about you?” A beat. “If ‘you’ is something you’re open to talking about.”

Lena’s tone is playful, but Kara knows she’s earnest, genuinely curious about Kara Danvers, who is fraying at the edges. She isn’t sure how well Kara’s existing anymore. All she knows is that she’s failing. As a sister. As a friend. As a journalist. As a person. Only Supergirl matters. Only Supergirl is able to accomplish anything meaningful. Supergirl saves lives. Kara Danvers hurts them. All of that, with not a lick of strength, only words and indifference. She wants to tell her how she can’t stop thinking about how slick ash feels between someone’s fingers. _I’m in your hands,_ he told her when she agreed to mentor him. Kara isn’t sure whether to laugh or throw up. She licks her lips. “You know me. Nothing ever happens.”

Lena looks at her a long time. “Is Alex doing okay? I saw her at the Waterfront the day of the unveiling. Detective Sawyer, too, now that I think of it. I didn’t have a chance to catch up with either one of them. Admittedly, I tend to get a little twitchy around law enforcement.”

She doesn’t blame her. “I don’t see them very often. Especially after everything,” Kara says. Lena nods. “But I did see them after. They’re both okay. I think they work a lot.”

“Ah, diving into work to avoid the harsh light of day. Relatable.” Lena turns her face to look at her. Kara looks back, before looking back to the water. “You’re working a lot yourself.” Kara blinks slowly. “Or did you think I missed my favorite reporter grilling Maxwell Lord and Morgan Edge during their press conference?”

Kara touches her glasses. “You saw that?”

“When you came by before the unveiling, and Sam told you to give your work conflict hell? I had no idea what she was talking about. She later told me that sentient pond scum had scheduled for his press conference to begin half an hour before my unveiling. You gave Wolf a run for his money.”

“I wish I could say that I was there on my own, being a plucky reporter, but,” she sighs, “Snapper told me to go. It didn’t feel so much like a grilling as…” she strokes her own thumb, “I let Maxwell Lord say a lot of things he shouldn’t have said, without pushing back. Snapper says _I_ became the story. I’m so embarrassed. I’m… so bad at my job, Lena.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. It _is_ true, Lena.” She draws a shaky breath, tries to build those walls she’s constructed around herself. They always come down around Lena. Too much comes rushing in. Maybe she should stay away from her. Maybe it would be best, like Alex said. “I don’t know what to do. I worked my way up to this. I slaved for Cat Grant for years, and I got my own office and now I’m stuck. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. Maybe I should quit CatCo.”

“If you don’t like being a reporter, maybe you should. _Do_ you like it?”

She doesn’t know. She wanted it at one point. Lena inspired her to take a lead off Clark’s work. Recently the world keeps reminding her that facts aren’t always the truth. That they can be distorted. She hasn’t done enough to clarify things. Maybe she should leave that kind of thing to Supergirl. Truth, justice, with hope and compassion for all. She hasn’t been able to do that as a journalist. Not without being told she’s not balanced. She’s never been good at balance. “I think so. Not always.” She worries on her lower lip. “But if I’m not good at it, maybe I should step out of the way. Clear the way for someone out there who really deserves it. Snapper said it himself. He didn’t hire me. Cat did.”

“And then he hired you back. Kara, come on. We all have bad days at work. Maybe you could have pressed Lord a little harder, but I did an unveiling meant to inspire the citizens of National City to a brighter future filled with hope. And at the end of the day, all I can guarantee they walked away with is PTSD.” She covers her hand with hers. Kara keeps hers flat, unresponsive, but feels her skin come alive, Lena’s warmth cover her. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Leave the angst to me, all right?”

Kara looks at her. She can’t say anything. She focuses on breathing. When it’s steadier, Lena removes her hand. “I think you’re great at your job,” she says quietly.

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“You’re biased.”

“Look, just because you bring me chocolates, are my best friend and favorite person, doesn’t mean I’m biased.” She scoops up the box of chocolates, scoots closer, bumps her shoulder. Kara smiles tiredly. Lena hands her an apple pie truffle. They watch the sea creatures. A few visitors pass by, sit by them, chat with their children, snap pictures before moving on. “What would you have done differently?” She eventually asks. “With Lord.”

“I wouldn’t have let him spit out his anti-alien rhetoric, for one. Aliens are already afraid, and a lot of companies exploit that. Hire them and sometimes won’t even pay them. Alien Amnesty Act or not, they’re not safe. And they hear stuff like that. Maybe they’ll never come out of the shadows.”

“All right. So why not pitch a piece to CatCo? CatCo’s official response to all those terrible things he said. Rebuke it, publicly.” She’s convincing. Kara smiles to herself, thinking the last time they had a similar conversation. Lena was all about her alien detection device then. _If aliens want to be citizens, that’s now their right. But if humans want to know which of their fellow citizens aren’t actually one of them, then that’s their right, too_. Her smile fades. Is Lena not knowing the only thing stopping her from fully embracing Supergirl? What would she think? Lillian says she’d hate her. Would Lena hate her? Kara doesn’t want her to know. Should she know? She tries to stifle her quietly mounting desperation. What were they talking about? Rebuking Lord. Yes. Lena continues. “I know it probably felt awful, for you, and especially to the aliens that heard it, but… professionally— that awfulness was a blip in the news that day. The real danger are humans, like that DuBois. Or Luthors,” she smiles wryly. 

“Not you.”

“Oh, no. I’m all sugar and spice. With a dash of rye and ice every now and then.” Lena makes a face. “That sounds like an awful drink.” 

Kara laughs softly. Another long silence passes between them. Their silences are always comfortable, neither rushing to fill them. “I like your idea, but I’m on Snapper’s… crap,” she says quietly, “list right now. I don’t think he’ll go for it. I’ve been relegated to editing grammar. He doesn’t trust me out on the field.”

“That’s a mistake. He showed up at my office after the Waterfront attack. His little pencil stub tucked behind his ear, worn notepad in hand.” She smiles thinking about it. “He’s like a walking cloud of gloom and grit. You’re _much_ more personable to talk to.”

“Was he nice?”

“He was perfectly professional, but so was I. I doubt he’ll swing by anytime soon. Was he nice _to you_ after what happened? Because if he wasn’t, that won’t do. I’ll buy CatCo and replace him.” Kara looks at her incredulously. “Don’t try me. I’ll do it.” Her eyes dance.

Kara laughs. “God. Please, no.” She smiles. “If you were in charge you’d fire me in a heartbeat.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you’re a good businesswoman.” Another long silence follows. She can’t imagine working with Lena. Having to disappear, turning in work past the deadline, her constant litany of excuses. Being friends wouldn’t be enough. Kara can’t imagine Lena putting up with incompetence. “Sometimes I get overwhelmed. It comes in waves.” Kara waits for her to say something. Anything. Lena listens. “After my parents died it happened all the time. Lately it’s happening more. I. Um. I can’t breathe. And in that moment I just have to get away.” Being Supergirl is like that. A fight or flight response. In her case, a fight and flight response. She always has to go, adrenaline rushing, into chaos, into panic. It’s not a lie. It’s not quite the truth. It’s something that meets in the middle. “That’s what happened that day with Maxwell Lord. I tried to push past it, but I couldn’t. I had to go.” Her life as Kara Danvers is expendable. Her life. Her career. It could fall to ruin. What matters is Supergirl, and what she can do. Who she can save. Kara Danvers can’t save anyone. Kara Danvers is weak and can’t ride an elevator without getting hit with a full blown anxiety attack. Kara Danvers has to lie to her best friend every day. “It was a mistake to leave the press conference.”

“It sounded like a panic attack,” Lena says gently. “That must be petrifying.”

“Yeah. I don’t… Alex knows. Eliza and Jeremiah, but. I don’t really talk about it.”

“Thank you for telling me. For what it’s worth; I don’t think it was a mistake. I’m glad you took care of yourself. What helps then? When you’re feeling that way?”

Fresh air. Being close to loved ones. But sometimes she has to go. What if Lena’s close when she has to go? “Being left alone. It helps if I can try to clear my head.”

“Time and space, got it.”

She hates time and space. She should go. Being with Lena before always made her feel good. Someone who didn’t know. Who treated her like the quirky, odd ‘human’ that she was. Who accepted her without question. She’s still that, but she has to let go of this life. At the end of the day, ideas and symbols are for the people, not one person. She cannot exist for herself. She doesn’t want to exist in a world where letting Lena go for the greater good might cripple her. She isn’t the same woman who chose to save less people just because Cat Grant’s son Carter happened to be at the train station. She has to be better than that. She has to shut Lena out. She closes her eyes when they start to burn.

“For the record,” Lena says, “time and space doesn’t start now, right? Because I’ve got a triple-chocolate truffle begging to be shared.”

Kara touches her glasses, swallows hard, forces a smile. “Right.”

 

 

 

 


	3. Searching

A/N: Hey, everyone! Thank you for the feedback and kudos! It's so appreciated.

A few quick notes. This chapter has a lot more Sam, so it's longer than usual. 

Also, this story is rated M, and I don't usually bother with trigger warnings, but I thought since this chapter was a little darker to give a heads up. There's a brief scene with an OC where a sexual assault is referenced/implied. Other that, the usual angst! 

 

* * *

* * *

 

x

She doesn’t know this place. These places. She swims through wisps of memories. Make belief. Darkness and stars. Snapshots. Charcoal staining her palms and fingertips. Wallpaper. Arguing with her mother. Words she doesn’t understand.

 

She’s afraid to sleep. She wakes, drenched in sweat, heart pounding. She swears she’s going to die. She’ll die and leave Ruby alone. What are those words, familiar and unfamiliar? Gibberish. Alien. Something tugs at her, at understanding. It’s something she knows without knowing. She’s been asleep for so long. 

 

Mom.

 

There’s something she’s forgotten. There’s something she has to do.

 

 _Mom_.

 

This life doesn’t matter.

 

“Mom!”

 

Sam blinks. She’s in the front yard, barefoot in her pajamas. The sun is coming up, blanketing the world in ochre. Her feet are wet. She looks to the dewy grass below. It's drizzling rain. Ruby tugs on her hand again. Sam doesn’t recognize her right away. Who is this girl?

 

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

 

 _Mom._ It all floods back. Ruby. Her daughter, Ruby. Her greatest gift, looking up at her, petrified. Her heart aches. Sam squeezes her hand gently. “Nothing’s wrong. Let me grab that paper I came out here for and we can head inside. I’ll make you breakfast.” She scans the yard, finds the paper, wrapped in plastic, and comes back to her, slips an arm around her shoulders. Ruby’s already dressed. “What do you want to eat?”

 

“I had cereal. I didn’t know where you were.” Ruby’s sullen these days. 

 

 _You can’t even send her off to school with a hot breakfast._ She thinks back to Patricia.  _What makes you think you could ever take care of a child?_ “I’m sorry, babe. What do you want for dinner tonight?”

 

“Are you going to be home for dinner? I don’t want to spend all night at L-Corp again. It’s boring.”

 

“Ouch,” she guides her back into the house, closing the door behind them, tracking water inside. “Look, I know it’s not the most exciting thing in the world, Rube, but Mommy has to pay bills.”

 

“I never see you.”

 

“We’re seeing each other right now. And we’ll see each other tonight.” Ruby sits at the table. Sam nearly tells her to sit up straight, decides now isn’t the time. She opens the fridge, pours orange juice in a glass and sets it in front of her before sitting. Ruby has a small drink. “I know it’s going to take adjusting for both of us. You know I’d rather be home with you.”

 

“Then why aren’t you?”

 

“Because I have to work,” she nearly snaps. Ruby averts her eyes. Maybe she heard it all the same. “It won’t be like this forever. I have a lot of responsibility right now.”  _I worked really hard to get here._   _“_ L-Corp’s a great company, Lena’s a fantastic boss.” Lena doesn’t get worked up about her responsibilities as a mother. “The pay is through the roof— I just— I need to get my footing.” She wonders if she’s trying to convince herself or Ruby. “It will all get easier, but in the meantime, can you please just…cut me some slack?” Ruby nods. “Thank you.” She stands, kisses her temple, starts making coffee. 

 

She worries she shares too much with her. Ruby’s young. She doesn’t want to turn this into a Gilmore Girls situation. It’s been the two of them for so long. So many moves for the right job, Ruby pulled out of schools. Ruby can be shy and awkward. Is that her fault? Sam tells herself it’s worth it. That in the end, Ruby will thank her, will be inspired by how hard she’s worked, by the nest egg she’ll have saved for her college education. Ruby will be able to focus on school, on making friends, on having the time of her life, without having to work full time. She’ll enjoy college the way she should, join clubs, go to parties without having to rush home to take care of a child. 

 

Sam doesn’t resent having her. She wishes the timing had been different. But Sam knows that sometimes she’s short with her. She worries Ruby thinks she’s brushing her off, the same way her own mother brushed her off. 

 

She rubs her fingers together, thinking of charcoal. The sound of ripping paper. She glances back at Ruby and throws a slice of bread into the toaster for herself before returning to the table. “How’s school? Did you tell everyone you met Supergirl?”

 

Ruby brightens. “Yeah.”

 

“That was pretty cool, huh?” she rubs Ruby’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “How are you feeling about the rest of that day at the Waterfront? I know it was scary. Do you want to talk about it?” 

 

“I’m okay.” She holds her glass of orange juice firmly, looks at her. “You’re better than Supergirl.” 

 

Sam rolls her eyes, stands when the toaster pops. “I think you need to slow your roll there, kiddo.”

 

“I mean it. Supergirl lifted that submarine, but you saved  _me._ You’re like her.”

 

Sam picks up the toast, throws it onto a plate, slapping some butter and jam onto it. “Ruby, we’ve gone over this. It was just… a freak thing.” As evidenced by her silly attempt to bend a crowbar later that night. Sam has moved on, humiliation happily behind her. Maybe they bothhallucinated it. It was loud, there were explosions, people screaming.  _The metal was bent._ Nope. She can’t think about it. Won’t think about it. She’s not weird. She’s not _super._ She’s not a freakin alien. If she were, she’d know. Despite the big hoopla over the Alien Amnesty Act, there aren’t many out there. The only ones she can think of are Supergirl and Superman. The Daxamites that came from another planet, or whatever. They’re all gone now, and if that lead bomb didn’t affect her, she’s definitely not a Daxamite. 

 

“I’m not lying. You were there.”

 

“Sweetie, I’m not saying you’re lying. Just that— it wasn’t what it looked like. You were scared. You’re confused. My momma bear instinct kicked in. It happens all the time.”

 

“Only Supergirl could have moved that thing.”

 

“Nuh uh. Because  _I_ moved it and I’m definitely  _not_ Supergirl. You know, if it wasn’t for Lena we wouldn’t have had the chance to meet her. Lena’s not so bad.” Ruby goes quiet again. Sam sighs inwardly, wondering if this is the start of a tween rebellion. Why does it feel as if she’s trying to get Ruby to like a new boyfriend? Even if that ‘boyfriend’ is work. She doesn’t remember being this surly as a teen, but there are patches of her youth that are so fragmented, she can barely identify them. “Go get your backpack ready. I don’t want to have to come back here when we’re halfway to school because you forgot a notebook.”

 

Ruby slumps away from the table and goes. Sam opens the morning newspaper. There’s a picture of Supergirl just beneath a blurry dot near a bridge. She reads the story, her heart sinking. Sam wonders what kind of pain that man must have been in to want to end it all, to jump off a bridge. How awful must it have been that death was preferable? But Supergirl was there. Supergirl is always there.  

 

 _I always knew if anyone could save me, it would be Her._ He’s quoted as saying.

 

It must make her feel good to save people like that, even if Sam found her a little colder than she expected when they met at the Waterfront. Her grip isn’t as strong as Sam thought it would be. But she’s beautiful. Radiant, even when she’s dripping wet. Sam looks down at herself, her damp pajamas. She, on the other hand, looks homeless. “Ruby, I hear the TV. Did you get your bag ready?”

 

“Yes, Mom! God!”

 

“Atta girl. Tone down the attitude, please?”

 

More grumbling. 

 

Sam returns to the story, munching on her toast. Supergirl declined when asked for comment. Sam narrows her eyes thoughtfully. Supergirl smelled familiar somehow. She rolls her eyes, chuckles to herself. Maybe her superpower is a super sense of smell. Pre-tty lame. She stands and throws the paper down on the table. Time to get dressed and take care of the million things she has to juggle. “Supergirl I am not.”

 

X

 

She forgot about Ruby’s fucking soccer game. She glances at the calendar notification, massaging her forehead, staring at the array of paperwork in front of her. All new projects seeking approval, lines she has to go through. Is there money in the L-Corp budget to do XYZ. The answer is  _yes,_ but will it make them  _money,_ will it bring L-Corp clout and prestige? Is it fiscally responsible? These, and more, are questions she must constantly ask herself. She cannot slip, she cannot miss a solitary detail. She has been entrusted with one of the most profitable companies in the world. She will not be the one to bankrupt it. She will not disappoint Lena. She will sleep here if she has to.

 

Why was she out on the front lawn this morning? Was she sleepwalking? She used to do that when she was younger. Patricia would find her wandering in the backyard, pawing at the barn door before shaking her awake. Later, she read you’re not supposed to do that; but she can’t imagine it harmed her. If anything, Sam was the one to slap Patricia, not having recognized her in the dark. No matter their falling out, Sam still feels guilty about it. How old was she then? Twelve? She told a friend about it.  _But she’s not your real mom, so it’s not like it’s a big,_ ** _big,_** _deal._ That response hurt her more than anything.  

 

There were other strange instances like that, but those memories are a fog to her. An impenetrable forest she’s lost in and can’t weave her way out of. At this point it’s embarrassing. Ruby already has enough questions, and now she’s convinced herself her mother is a superhero, and will heartily punch the girls at school who don’t believe her. Poor Stephanie Harrison’s face. Where does she get that from? Sam’s never hit her. She doesn’t let her watch violent movies. Maybe it’s all a desperate cry for attention. She thought girls this age didn’t want their mothers around.

 

She sighs to herself, picks up the phone. Attorneys are notifying her that Morgan Edge has filed an anti-trust suit against the upcoming merger. Men and their egos bore her. No father in her life, no Ruby’s father around, no man in her adult life. At this rate, she should count herself lucky. Not that she’s had time for men or dating. Nor can she think of anyone eager to get involved with a workaholic who hasn’t dated in over a decade.  _But wait, there’s more, I have a daughter!_ She acknowledges she may die alone. She has Ruby and she has work. Maybe once Ruby’s out of high school she can focus on herself.

 

For now, calls, calls, more calls; these days she lives with a phone permanently attached to her ear. She calls Lena on the way to the lobby to let her know about the anti-trust suit.  _I’ll take care of this,_ she tells Lena.  _I know you will._ Sam’s relieved. _I’ll call back if anything else pops up._ Not that it will. She calls the attorneys in the elevator, gets a conference call set up on the walk to the car, drives to Ruby’s school while on conference with them. 

 

“Look, we all know that Edge is after Ms. Luthor because she’s getting the deals he wants. I know Edge and Lord have made mergers before that make this one look like we’re talking to a mom and pop shop, and I’ve already forwarded you every notarized document and financial report that establishes every step of this merger has happened above board. We don’t pay you fifteen hundred dollars an hour for you to tell me this is short notice. If Edge can drop this at the last minute, I’m expecting you to take care of it, or L-Corp will start looking for another firm to represent us.”

 

She won’t allow Edge to bully them anytime L-Corp is getting ahead. She won’t allow jobs to be extinguished over some petty vendetta. She pulls up to the school, parks the car, rolls down the window and waves Ruby over, takes the call off speaker phone. Ruby trudges over, dressed in her soccer uniform, and gets in the car. Sam foregoes the feeling of tenderness that washes over her. Motions for her to put her seatbelt on. Ruby does.

 

She returns her attention to the phone call. “I don’t want excuses; I want to hear when it’s done. Remember, this merger benefits you, too. I shouldn’t have to explain why a bigger company, will have more business to send your way.” She listens, nods. “Perfect. I’ll await your call shortly. Thank you, gentlemen.” She ends the call, sets the phone aside, looks at Ruby. “Hey, sweetie.”

 

“You’re scary.”

 

Sam smiles. “Only to  ~~douchebags~~  people who deserve it.”

 

“Did you bring cupcakes? You said you were going to bring cupcakes.”

 

Sam winces. Great. So now she needs to start adding ‘cupcakes’ to her events calendar. That’ll be fun to explain when the alert pops up during a presentation. “Um. No.  _But_ , I have something better. Let’s do a quick detour.” They stop at a bakery, pay too much for cupcakes, while Ruby worries they’ll be late to the game. “We’re not going to be late to the game.” She tries not to sound frustrated. She knows she has to be at this game, but a triple digit million dollar deal is hanging over her head. She knows that some of the other soccer moms would crucify her for saying it out loud, but twelve-year olds scoring soccer goals doesn’t compete.  _Mom won’t be able to be at your soccer game when she has to go back to bagging groceries until she gets another fancy job._ She keeps her mouth shut. Ruby is a dream compared to the men she has to deal with at the workplace. She’s a mom. This is a mom thing she has to do. She wonders what her birth mom is like. Was like. Is she alive? Maybe she’s a businesswoman. Sam never had a drive to find her. Maybe she should. Maybe there’s some family history she should be aware of, for Ruby’s sake if nothing else.

 

They arrive at the soccer field and she lugs her laptop, her chair, and the cupcakes out while Ruby bounces the soccer ball on her knees. “Grab my phone,” she tells her. Ruby does. Sam dumps the cupcakes with all the other food and sets up her chair, and more importantly, the wi-fi network so she can keep working. The game begins.

 

A woman meanders over. “They grow up so fast, don’t they?”

 

 _Leave me alone._ “They really do,” she says, pulling up the financial reports and triple checking them for the tenth time for any errors. Some cheering. Sam looks up and gives Ruby a thumbs up. The other team scored. Oops. “You’re doing great!” She yells out. Ruby nods and Sam immediately goes back to her computer, checking her phone anxiously. Still no call. 

 

“You look so much younger than the other mothers,” the woman goes on.

 

“Thanks,” Sam doesn’t take her eyes off the computer screen. “The trick is lots and lots of moisturizer.” She knows what the woman is getting at, and it isn’t the first time. Next she’ll say something like ‘you know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ruby’s dad here’. Gossips. She puts in a few extra formulas into the spreadsheet. Frowns at the screen. No, something went wrong there.

 

“Mom, did you see that?” Ruby calls out. Her arms are above her head, the girls rallying around her.

 

Sam claps hard. Did she score a goal? She missed it while staring at an Excel spreadsheet. Shit. “Good job, baby!” Ruby lights up. Christ. “I’m so proud of you!”

 

She looks at her phone. Where are these lawyers? That shadow again. Sam looks up, ready to tell her to take a hike. This woman is different. It looks like she just walked out of a yoga studio. She thought the women in National City would be more like the women in L.A. Pinot Grigio and Ativan before each soccer game to keep them cool and mellow, and most importantly, leave her the hell alone. The woman stares at Sam intensely. Her smile and eyes go further than they should.

 

Sam feels the hair stand on the back of her neck. “Um. So which one is yours?” Sam asks. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” She looks at the other kids, matching their parents to them. There’s no child for this one.

 

“You’re chosen.” The woman reaches into her bag, produces a pamphlet, extends it to her. 

 

Sam takes it. Habit. She looks at the symbol. Something tugs at her again. Something burrows into her. JOIN US, it says. Oh, great. “What is this?” She blinks, looks at her. “Who are you?”

 

“A follower.” She drops to one knee, palms to the grass, looks at her with reverence. The other parents are looking. 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Soon you will learn your path.” She smiles, stands, walks away. 

 

Sam looks after her, to the pamphlet in her hand. Stuffs it into her purse. The other parents are muttering amongst themselves, glancing at her. “National City, right? We should all probably check the Kool-Aid.” Soft laughter. What in the actual fuck. Who was that lunatic? She feels hot. Finally her phone rings. The lawyers. She breathes. Picks up the phone. “This is Samantha Arias.”

 

X

 

 

Supergirl lands on Maxwell Lord’s balcony, striding into his office at Lord Technologies. Lord sits behind the desk, turns in his chair to look at her. His face is perfectly stubbled. His cologne tickles her nose. “You came,” he grins, “sooner than expected. And in your Sunday Best, no less.”

 

“Why did you contact me?” He called twenty minutes ago from an untraceable number. She was in the middle of editing an article on a new ice cream shop in town. She debated telling Alex about the call, but decided against it. She can’t pretend she’s self-reliant and then depend on her. She can’t resent her worry and then worry her. They’re too co-dependent.  _Um, Ms. Grant. I can’t find Snapper. If you see him can you tell him I’m doing a very important thing? It’s an emergency. Not a real emergency. Just a small emergency. It’s more urgent than an emergency._ Cat didn’t look up from her laptop.  _Oh, run along. If he gets mad he can just fire you again._

 

“So serious,” Lord says. “Last time we chatted you were more amiable.” He stands. Supergirl watches him. Yes, the last time they talked on the phone, for the article on Lena. “I thought you’d bring Alex.”

 

She settles her hands on her hips. “You have three seconds to tell me why you asked me to come here or I walk.” He squints at her, reaches into his desk drawer, she scans it quickly. No identifiable weapons. He pulls out a pamphlet and drops it on the desk. Supergirl looks at it. The breath catches in her lungs, memories of Krypton sweeping back to her. This symbol once meant so much to her. Not just to her, to all of Krypton. She would meditate and pray. Even when she was young, it made her feel at peace. “What is this?”

 

“Your very own fan club.” He sits on the edge of the desk.

 

“What?”

 

He scoffs. “Yet again I’ve given you too much credit. One of my men received this a few weeks back. It would have been negligent to not have sent him out to dig deeper.” Supergirl picks up the pamphlet. The symbol for Rao. JOIN US at the bottom. “But he’s a scientist. Not a journalist. I thought, ‘what the hell? I’ll let Supergirl take a stab at it.’ Maybe you can write a story.”

 

Her lip curls. She doesn’t want to be conflated with Kara Danvers. She doesn’t want anyone to overhear. She hates that he knows her identity; that he set Alex up so he could steal that secret. Steal her privacy, her safety net. “What are you up to?”

 

“The same thing I’m always up to. You know how I feel about your kind. The last thing we need is a group of misguided fools with unwarranted sympathy for you. Whatever is happening there, you need to put a stop to it.”

 

“That’s a high and mighty attitude for someone working with Morgan Edge.”

 

“Only professionally. What he gets up to on his own time is his own business. I’m nothing if not pragmatic.”

 

“That’s a nice way of saying you have no principles.”

 

He picks up his glass and has a drink, pointing at the flyer. “I gave you a heads up on something you were in the dark about. Just because we don’t share the same tenets doesn’t mean I don’t believe in something.”

 

“Besides xenophobia?” She thins her lips. “If this,” she lifts the pamphlet, “is so important, why don’t you take care of it yourself?”

 

“I’m not the messenger they’re looking for.” He crosses his arms. “They’d never listen to me.” 

 

“Enough with the cryptic crap. Why don’t you just tell me what this is about?”

 

“Because you have to see it for yourself, Supergirl.” He gets to his feet. “When you get there, you shut it down.” He stands close. “What they’re doing? What they believe? It’s not good for anyone. Not you, not me, not them, not National City.”

 

“Is this group dangerous?”

 

“Not yet.” 

 

She walks to the balcony. “If this is a trap, I’ll be back for you.” 

 

He laughs. “If it’s a trap, you won’t have the chance. Have a little faith, Supergirl.”

 

She narrows her eyes. “Don’t call me on my cell phone again.”

 

“Then set up a Bat Signal.”

 

She casts one final glare at him and goes.

 

X

 

_Welcome, Children of Rao. We are here all of us, by Her grace. We are here together, standing in the light, for just one reason. We are here because Supergirl saved us. Let us begin by reaffirming our faith, though we go forth alone, our soul unites under Rao’s gladsome rays. For Rao sees all, feels all. His love is eternal. May Rao protect us so that we might protect others._

 

Kara paces her apartment. She isn’t sure what she expected from Maxwell Lord. He’s a bad person. He created Bizarro. He blackmailed an employee into taking a train hostage. He made the red kryptonite that made her crazy. But he also helped save her from the Black Mercy. He helped her stop Myriad. He would argue that she isn’t a saint. Mon-El made the same argument once. They’re right. She’s let people die. She locked up Maxwell Lord for weeks without trial. She has come as close as she cares to admit, to despising that man. She is not a god.

 

These Children of Rao think she’s a god. She sits on the floor, afraid she’ll level the building if she keeps pacing. That man leading the sermon looked at her as if he knew her. It was strange to be in a room filled with those she’s rescued. Remembering every single face, every single occurrence. Car crashes. Near drownings. Burning buildings. Robberies. Overdoses. Men and women who’d been assaulted and left to die.

 

It should have reassured her to have seen them. This is what it means to be Supergirl: saving those who would have otherwise perished. But it makes her uncomfortable. Their faith is perverted. She knows what faith is. Even if lately she isn’t sure what to believe in. She’s believed in the idea of Supergirl. Is that arrogance? Blasphemous? All she wants is to be helpful. It’s all she’s ever wanted. 

 

_Many of us don’t get a second chance in life. Many of us stay lost. Spiritually lost. We need guidance to find our way back home._

 

She breathes slowly. Recently when she’s felt this way she’s meditated. Prayed to Rao. Now it seems like sacrilege. There are many religions on this planet. People take comfort in them. They search the teachings for guidance. Is this so different? Does it only feel like a cult because she’s the one they’re praying to?  What do they want? There’s nothing divine about any of this. She was at the right place at the right time. They’ve lost their way and she doesn’t know how to help them.

 

She texted Winn hours ago.  _Has the DEO flagged any weird cults in National City?_

 

He responded immediately.  _Ooh, did you watch Wild, Wild Country on Netflix, too? Or Going Clear? I’m so into cults._

A minute later.  _Not literally._

Two minutes later.  _Nothing in our systems. Want to grab a beer later?_

 

She ignored him, choosing to take that time to draw a portrait of the man leading the sermon and text the picture to Winn.  _Let me know if you get a hit. ‘Sure’,_ he sent back. Maybe she made him feel bad. Has made everyone feel bad. Unlike Supergirl.  _Because of Supergirl I realized that I still deserved to be loved. Supergirl saved me._

 

It’s all wrong. There’s a knock. She slips her glasses on and opens the door. Maggie. Hands stuffed in the pockets of her leather jacket. Kara gestures for her to enter, which she does, somewhat apprehensively. “What’s up?” Maggie asks. She looks around. “Is Alex okay?”

 

“Alex is fine.” She pads over to the coffee table in her socks. Maggie hesitates, takes her boots off and joins her. Kara never knew Maggie. Alex practically dropped out of Kara’s life when she met her. Kara understood. It felt selfish to be hurt, when Alex was finally happy, so she smiled and pretended it was all okay. She thought Alex would see through her fake smiles, but she didn’t. It felt like she was being left behind. When Alex proposed, Maggie ended things. They’d only been dating a few months then. Whatever else there was to that story, Kara doesn’t know. She hasn’t been available, and Alex has been guarded. Maybe Alex didn’t want to weigh her down with her own issues. They’ve both been isolating. “Thanks for coming by.”

 

“Yeah.” She doesn’t sit. 

 

Kara sits on the floor, taps the pamphlet on the table. “Have you seen this before?”

 

If Maggie’s surprised by the absence of pleasantries, she doesn’t show it. She reaches down, picks up the pamphlet with a frown. “Yeah. Someone gave me one of these after the Daxamite invasion.” She opens it. “This is still going on?”

 

She’s stunned. “This has been going on since the Daxamite invasion?” 

 

 “At least.”

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

Maggie sets the pamphlet down. “I figured if I knew, you and the DEO must know.” Kara stares back at her. “I haven’t seen you outside of a cape in nearly a year. You made it clear we weren’t friends, and...” 

 

Kara stiffens her jaw. “And?”

 

“It just seems like you’ve been going through something,” she says slowly.

 

“And you didn’t want to worry me? Add something to my plate?” It feels heavier, saying these words, keeping them steady, than lifting that submarine out of the water.

 

“Kara, I didn’t come here to fight. Was there anything else?”

 

Kara doesn’t say anything. Maggie mumbles ‘okay’, turns to go. “Have you gone to one of their meetings?” Maggie stops, looks at her again. “They’re… not right.”

 

“‘Not right’ how?”

 

“They’re confused. They think Supergirl is a god. But we both know that’s not true. They light candles, read scripture— Kryptonian scripture. Everyone there was someone I saved. They call themselves The Children of Rao,” her face heats from embarrassment, maybe shame. “It’s not a religion, Maggie, no matter what they dress it in. It’s a cult. This,” she picks up the pamphlet, “is their recruiting material. There has to be something you can do.”

 

“Me?”

 

“You. The NCPD. The city. I know we haven’t always agreed on whose jurisdiction is whose. But these are humans. That’s not for the DEO to deal with.”

 

“It’s never stopped you before.”

 

Kara nods stiffly. Licks her lips. “I can’t— Supergirl can’t… fight belief. I’m afraid if Supergirl goes down there she’ll only encourage them.”

 

Maggie draws a slow breath. “I’m guessing this isn’t the time to point out that only gods tend to refer to themselves in the third person?” Kara narrows her eyes. “Look, I get that it’s freaky and  _weird,_ but there are plenty of crackpots and snake oil salesmen out there. We can’t lock them up because of what they believe in. It falls under Freedom of Religion. Freedom of Speech. They haven’t—” Kara’s phone rings. She looks at it. Lena. “Go ahead. I’ll get going—”

 

“No. I want us to figure something out. Just—” she picks up the phone. “Hey.” She feels herself making the world go smaller, honing it until there’s only one focus.

 

_Kara. Hi. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time._

 

Kara feels some of the tension slip away from her. Medications don’t work on her, but Lena’s voice is like Valium. “Actually, I’m…”  _Trying to figure out how to shut down a cult that worships me._ She sighs inwardly. “It’s never a bad time.” She glances at Maggie, but Maggie doesn’t seem to be listening. “What’s up?”

 

 _L-Corp had a very good day today. Sam just closed on a big merger,_ **_and_ ** _we were able to fight back Morgan Edge’s anti-trust filing, the dirtbag. It’s a big day for L-Corp. And Sam! And me. We were going to celebrate and I thought— well. Any celebrating I do— it’s only right that you’re there. So what do you say? Care to join us for drinks?_

 

Kara swallows, clears her throat. “Wow. Congratulations! That’s great news.”

 

_I know, right? Say you’ll come._

 

Kara rubs her eye. “I just— I wish the timing was better. I’m here with Maggie—” She sees Maggie look at her, lift an eyebrow. “Detective Sawyer—”

 

_Oh, God. Is everything okay?_

 

“Yes. It is. But I invited her over, and it’d be rude to—”

 

 _I’d hate to pull you away from her. So have her come along and we’ll all drink. The more the merrier. Sam,_ Kara hears her voice fade away as she pulls the phone back from her ear,  _do you mind if we have Kara’s detective friend join us?_ Kara hears a bright negative from Sam, sighs inwardly.  _Sam doesn’t mind. And as someone who’s personally been arrested by Detective Sawyer, I can’t say_ ** _I_** _mind. That has to count for something. I’ve made Sam promise she won’t strangle you,_ she says lightly.Kara doesn’t say anything. A few more seconds pass and then Lena speaks again, more quietly.  _If you can’t make it, that’s okay._

 

Kara imagines she’s taken some distance from Sam. Maybe that’s why she speaks more quietly. That, or the damp of disappointment. Kara appreciates that she didn’t say  _‘If you don’t want to come’._  “No, we’ll be there. Both of us.”  _What?_ Maggie mouths. She makes an x-motion with her arms. Abort. Abort.

 

 _Really?_ The joy seeps back into her voice.  _That’s wonderful. We’ll see you soon. I’ll text you the address._

 

“See you soon,” she says cheerfully. “Bye.” She ends the call, her smile fading. “Lena wants us to meet her, and her CFO for drinks.”

 

Maggie looks at her as if she’s grown another head. “You can’t even get drunk. Why didn’t you say no?” 

 

Kara doesn’t know.

 

X

 

 

The restaurant is bustling when they get there, but they’re seated quickly, a jug of water brought for them, along with the appropriate number of glasses and menus. The walls are exposed brick and hardwood floors. The aroma of wood fired pizza wafts through the air. The lighting is low and intimate. 

 

“You don’t have to worry about a thing tonight because I’m taking care of everything,” Lena tells Sam. 

 

Sam sets her purse to the side. “You don’t have to do that. Ruby has a sitter tonight and I get to have a meal and drinks with grown ups. That’s more than present enough.” Even if work pushed so late into the evening that she had to miss dinner with Ruby.

 

It’s the first time she and Lena have gone out together, outside of their first outing months ago, when Lena recommended she leave her last company and come work for her instead. Previously they’d only see one another at the usual stuffy conferences, the rare women who were leading the seminars, talking innovative new practices, while many of the men took it as an opportunity to get hammered and call it networking. They spent years that way, until finally Lena formally introduced herself. Sam took her hand, impressed by Lena’s presentations and her unpretentiousness. Lena kept her chin up even when all that crap was going on about Lillian Luthor. Sam didn’t look or treat Lena as if she were a leper, which Lena was grateful for.  _I’d love to have you at L-Corp if you’re ever looking for a change. I’ll make it worth your while._ Lena wrote down her personal cell phone number.  _Call me anytime._ And here they are.

 

“You look distracted,” Lena says.

 

Sam pours their glasses of water, glancing out the restaurant windows. Passerbys smile at her, that same empty grin that makes her shiver. She looks to the side; a waiter she doesn’t recognize smiles, too, nods. She turns away and grips the menu more tightly. “Just hungry. I’m telling you, I could eat everything on this menu.”

 

Lena laughs softly. “Then I’m glad Kara’s joining us; she’s got the appetite to match.” She takes the shorter menu, turns it her way. “What drinks do you think we should start with? We’ll wait for them to get here, but I’m partial to a bottle of wine myself.” 

 

“Hey, as long as you don’t have to jam a plastic straw into it, I’m golden.” Lena smiles and Sam lifts her head, as if by some invisible force, to look outside again. Kara Danvers and… it must be her detective friend, move towards the entrance. Kara’s eyes are furrowed behind her glasses. The detective shakes her head. Whatever she says, she says it forcefully.  _Well …Lord…razy…?_

 

And then they’re inside. Sam searches their faces as they approach. Weary, but their smiles aren’t stretched or distorted. That creep from the soccer game this morning must be bugging her out.  _It’s fine. You’re fine. Outside of sleepwalking, and having some lunatic call you chosen today, everything is completely normal._ So why does she feel like she’s being watched?

 

She snaps to attention when Lena says her name. Stands shakes their hands. It’s the cop from the unveiling at the Waterfront. She smells familiar. Or is it Kara? Her eyes settle on Kara’s bright blue ones. She tries to ignore that her brain feels like there are fire ants crawling on it. “Of course I remember you. Both of you. Thanks for coming.”

 

They sit.

 

X

 

Their third bottle of wine has arrived when Sam’s phone rings. Their chortling comes to a stop, all trying to scrub the PETA ad Morgan Edge did, sprawled before a fireplace in nothing but a pair of hot pink speedos, from their minds. Sam wipes her eyes, Maggie allows a faint smile, while Lena laughs, resting her forehead briefly on Kara’s shoulder. 

 

“I can’t stop laughing,” Lena says quietly, still shaking with laughter, “he looks absolutely ridiculous.” 

 

Kara likes seeing her like this. Relaxed, happy. It’s rare. Lena keeps her sadness to herself, too. Kara doesn’t lean into her. She doesn’t brush her hair. She doesn’t take her hand. She does smile. “I know we shouldn’t give him any exposure—” 

 

Lena laughs again. “He’s had enough, hasn’t he?” She turns her phone to landscape mode, zooming in on him. “He looks like a mole rat.”

 

“But,” Kara continues, “if someone suggested a look back at some of National City’s hardest hitting players? I can almost guarantee that picture would make it in there.” Lena perks enough to pull away and look at her.

 

“Guys.” Sam says. “Where’s my phone?” Maggie, seated next to her, looks around. Sam digs in her purse. She pulls out a hairbrush. Her wallet. The Children of Rao pamphlet. Kara’s heart stops, her eyes flick to Maggie. She’s seen it, too. Sam’s car keys join the table. Sam fishes out the phone triumphantly. “Gotcha, fucker.” More quietly. “It’s Ruby.” She puts out a hand, takes a breath. They quiet. Lena grabs one of the remaining slices of pizza and sets it on Kara’s plate. Kara feels a flush of fondness. Sam picks up the phone. “Hey, babe, how are you? Yeah? Did you do your homework? Uh huh. Uh huh. Because. Right. Ruby, I know you don’t like Ms. Queller but she’s not going anywhere. It’s not her job to feed you whatever you want. Next time just push that stuff to the side and eat the rest.” A sigh. “Yes. We can pick up pizza tomorrow. Okay. Yeah. I love you too, Rubes. Goodnight.”

 

“Who’s Ms. Queller?” Maggie asks.

 

“According to Ruby she is the devil incarnate, but really, she’s just the babysitter. She  _is_  uptight, though.” She huffs. “Sorry, does everyone— Ruby’s my daughter.” She unlocks her phone, scrolls through the gallery. “Not to be  _that_ mom, but I’m having such a nice time hanging out with adults that I’m going to show you a few pictures to soothe my guilty conscience.”

 

“Smart,” Lena says.

 

Kara takes a bite of the pizza Lena put on her plate. It’s gone lukewarm, which she can mostly tell by the coloring, but it’s still good. It’s their third pizza of the night. Sam eats as much as she does. It makes her feel normal. 

 

Sam brings up a picture on her phone. “This was Ruby at her soccer game today.” They tell Sam Ruby’s cute. “She scored a goal and I missed it, but pretended I’d seen it,” her words are drifting. Kara smiles a little. The only time she’s ever been drunk was with Mon-El and that Zakaranian ale. She laughed so much that night, at nothing. Is that what it feels like to be human? To let go? Then again, Alex drinks, too. Alex drinks a lot. She’s usually morose when she does. Sam frowns at her phone. “Sometimes I feel like such a shit mom.”

 

“Sam, no,” Lena says. “Come on. Everything you do, you do for Ruby. It’s— It’s really sweet. She knows you work hard, and when she’s older, she’ll look back and remember it.”

 

“But maybe I’m working too hard. Maybe she’ll think I wasn’t there.”

 

“You went to her soccer game. You’ve gone to every single one of her games and recitals. I don’t believe for a second she’s ever questioned how much you love her.”

 

Sam nods, wipes at her eyes. “Oh, God. I am not going to start crying. I think the wine is making me emotional.” She takes a breath. “Objectively I know that. Or think I do. I just worry that I’m not giving her enough.” She looks to Lena. “I hope I don’t sound ungrateful. I love my job. I  _love_ that I have this opportunity.”

 

“Sam, don’t worry.” Lena smiles. “I’m not taking notes for future reviews. I think we can safely say that you have more to balance than the rest of us at this table.” Kara nods enthusiastically. “You’re allowed to have moments of doubt, so long as you continue to take care of her.”

 

 Sam smiles gratefully. “Thanks. I know she’s not wild about Ms. Queller, but there’s no one else. She’s highly recommended, can keep up with my insane schedule… I just hate how much I’ve come to rely on her. I don’t want Ruby to feel neglected.”

 

“Well,” Maggie says, folding her arms on the table. “If you don’t kick her ass out of home when she’s fourteen you’ll have done better than my parents.” She says the words seamlessly, without drama, a wry smile on her lips. Kara never knew that. Did Alex know that? She doesn’t know what to say. She feels stupid, for not having known it, or seen it, or recognized it. She lost her parents, but never doubted she was loved. To have been thrown out. Abandoned. She isn’t sure which one would feel worse. 

 

“What happened?” Sam shifts to look at her. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

 

“It’s no big deal,” but Kara senses that tension in her body. “I was gay; they were religious.” Her eyes skirt over the pamphlet. Kara wonders if Maggie knows she’s looked at it. If she associates religion with intolerance now. It wasn’t like that on Krypton.

 

“I’m so sorry, Maggie,” Lena says. They hardly know each other, but Kara thinks she means it. Kara wants to tell her she’s sorry, too, but isn’t sure Maggie would believe her. Maggie shakes her head, ‘it’s no big deal’ all over again.

 

“ _Well,_ birds of a feather,” Sam clears her throat, picks up her glass of wine, has a big drink. “My mom kicked me out when I got pregnant with Ruby. I was sixteen.” Kara takes another breath. It’s like breathing underwater. These revelations keep coming like blows. “It’s been the two of us ever since.”

 

“That sucks,” Maggie pulls a piece of the pizza crust apart, “but if I know anything about being on your own at that age, it’s that it makes you tough.”

 

“Tough  _and_  protective,” Lena says softly. 

 

Kara studies Sam. “I know we’ve just met, but you seem like a really caring mother. Thoughtful… and…loving.” She thinks of Supergirl telling Sam to care for Ruby. She doesn’t doubt Sam does. “Ruby’s lucky.”

 

Sam nods, bows her head. “You guys are … Thank you. I’ll look back on this when I’m having one of my tougher days. Everyone always asks ‘how do you do it’? But half of the time I don’t think I’m doing it well. Or very gracefully.” She has another bite of pizza. “And now I have to eat pizza two nights in a row.”

 

“That’s rough,” Maggie says.

 

Sam smiles. “I guess the good thing about having a less than ideal mother is that now I know what  _not_ to do.” 

 

“Is that the criteria?” Lena chuckles, pouring herself a glass of wine, refilling everyone else’s. “Because if it is, I’m destined to be a  _great_ mother.” She swirls the wine in her glass, eyes hooded. “I can objectively say that Ihave the worst mother. Or maybe I can’t ever be objective when it comes to her.” Lena’s cheeks are flushed from the wine, but her eyes are far away, fogged in thought. Kara wants to stroke her back. She’s done that before, when Lena’s been upset. “But she did frame me for several felonies, kidnapped me when I was arrested for said felonies, and then left me for dead when I’d outlived my use.”

 

Sam arches her eyebrows. “Uh. Yeah, I think you take this one.” She looks at Maggie for confirmation, who nods.

 

“Did it sound like I was trying to make it a competition?” Lena asks. There are seeds of doubt in her voice. “I wasn’t trying to.” 

 

“I didn’t think so,” Sam says. “Lena, don’t take this the wrong way, but that whole scenario sounds crazy.”

 

“In my world that’s just Tuesday.”

 

They laugh. Kara smiles, thinking of all of them, baring their trauma, smiling and laughing through it all. She knows that life, as well as the flip side. The lonely nights. The days when it’s so hard to get out of bed. Many of the things she tried not to dwell on after arriving on Earth all came to the surface when she came out as Supergirl. And recently. She lets the thoughts go. The memories go. That long trek to the escape pod.  _No, no, no. No, no, no, no, no—_ was she praying to Rao then? Mon-El heaved for breath. She felt her fingers go through—  

 

“So she left you for dead,” Sam says. “What happened? If you can talk about it. Sorry, I know I’m the new one here. And you’re my boss—”

 

“We’re colleagues,” Lena says. “It’s okay. I brought it up. Besides, I’d rather you hear it from me than read about it on TMZ.” 

 

Maggie has a drink of wine. “What Lena very kindly left out of that narrative was how I was the one that took her into custody that night.” She looks at Lena. “I am sorry about that.”

 

“Look, I appreciate it, but you were just doing your job and… water under the bridge. That tape fooled everyone.”

 

“Not  _everyone,”_ Maggie says. Kara twines her fingers in her lap.

 

Sam picks up the last slice of pizza. “You guys are like superheroes.” She looks to Kara. “I guess we can stick to being the boring ones?”

 

Kara smiles, touches her glasses. “I guess so.”

 

“But wait, let’s back up. How did you get out of that situation?” Sam looks at Lena. “Am I the only one that doesn’t know this story?”

 

“I don’t know it,” Maggie says. 

 

Kara can’t tell if she’s lying or trying to make Sam feel less isolated. It must be odd for the two of them to be here. They’ve never spent time together as a group, they’re not close with either herself or Lena, as far as Kara knows. Now that she thinks about it, she has no idea what Maggie’s life has been like without Alex in it. Nor did she know what it was like before Alex. Does Maggie have friends in National City? Does Sam? Kara thinks of her loved ones. Her adoptive family, her friends. So much she’s trying to leave behind, while others have no one. Lena herself has said she only has Kara and Supergirl as friends. Kara feels the prickly heat of shame crawling up her neck. 

 

“All right, the story,” Lena sits up, “I’ll try to make it quick, and not bore Kara too much.”

 

“It’s not a bore; I like hearing your stories.”

 

Lena smiles. “So, Metallo’s kryptonite is unstable. I didn’t know that at the time. I was too focused on the whole being kidnapped thing. Of course, Mother had a scheme. Apparently disclosing twenty-four hours earlier that I wasn’t adopted after all, wasn’t an attempt to bond with me. Needed my Luthor DNA.” Sam parts her lips, says nothing. Kara wonders how it felt for Lena then, that disappointment. It must have been crushing.  _The only time she bothers_   _with me is when she wants something,_ Lena told her once.  _And like an idiot, I fall for it every time._ Lena’s quiet for a moment, shakes her head. “I’m forced to open Lex’s hate vault. Mom’s gloating. I felt… tired. I can’t remember what I was thinking then. I was probably starting to disassociate. Not withstanding Metallo or his rapidly degrading kryptonite, by that point I thought I was dead. My life in National City, everything I’d built. What kind of life would I have after being framed that way? Having been forced to go on the run.”

 

“Jesus, Lena,” Sam breathes.

 

“But when Supergirl arrived…” her face lights up, “I thought… ‘it’s going to be okay’.” Kara looks at her pizza. Her ears are burning. Sam and Maggie watch Lena. “Mom’s science projects were there. Big guys. I was afraid they’d hurt her. But Supergirl looks at me and says…” she laughs, “ _Kara Danvers_   _believes in you_.” Sam lifts her eyebrows, looks at Kara, back to Lena. “I couldn’t believe it. Right then, I knew I would get out of that awful situation. That there were better days, left.” She looks at Kara. “And that’s all because of you. My hero.”

 

Kara tries to swallow. Can’t. Maggie breaks off another piece of pizza crust and shoves it in her mouth. Kara keeps her hands in her laps, not trusting herself to pick up her wine glass. “Oh. Anyone would have done that.”

 

“No, they wouldn’t have.”

 

Kara hears a heartbeat, deafening, pounding in her ears. She looks at Sam who exchanges a small look with Maggie. Sees the heat of Maggie’s fingers as she picks up a napkin and wrings it lightly. Sam’s eyes dart around the restaurant. Kara follows her gaze but sees nothing out of the ordinary. She refocuses her hearing, from Lena’s heartbeat to the kitchen and clanging of cutlery. Lena’s speaking so earnestly. Maybe she’s had too much wine. It’s hard to get her mouth unstuck. “That’s what friends are for.”

 

Sam tears her gaze away from one of the smiling waiters, looks to them. “Wow. That’s a good friend. I see why Lena thinks so highly of you. Guess you’re more than just a CatCo reporter.” She turns to Lena. “I’m glad you’re okay. And that Supergirl  _and_ Kara were there for you.”

 

“It was just one of the many times she’s saved my life. A statue is literally the least I could do,” Lena says.

 

Sam laughs. Maggie’s smile is pleasant but otherwise unreadable. She touches her fingers to the pamphlet. Sam mutters about everything she’s left on the table, starts putting away the brush, the purse, the keys. “Where did you get this, Sam?”

 

“Oh, that—” she shakes her head, picks it up again. “Some weirdo came up to me at Ruby’s game. It sounded like some self-help, hippy-dippy crap. No thanks; I have enough going on in my life.”

 

Lena takes it and looks at it. “I hate those things. Waste of time and paper.” She opens the pamphlet. “‘Join us.’ That’s vague.”

 

“Why do you think she gave it to you?” Kara asks.

 

Sam shrugs. “Beats me.”

 

“I can’t find anything for the address,” Lena frowns at her phone screen. “It looks like a run of the mill community center.” She looks at Maggie. “Do you know what it’s about? For that matter,” she looks at Kara, “do you?”

 

Kara hesitates. Maggie clears her throat. “It looks to be a new religion, dedicated to the worship of Supergirl. That’s the rumor, anyway.” Kara has a bite of pizza. It’s definitely cold now. 

 

“What?” Lena cocks an eyebrow. “The worship of— as if she were a god?” She takes a breath. “That’s…” 

 

Kara looks at her, unaware she’s holding her breath, praying she won’t say… She doesn’t know what she wants her to say. Her phone rings. Kara grimaces. She finds it in her purse, screen still cracked. It’s James. “I’m sorry— it’s work. I have to take this,” she takes it with her, retreating outside, wondering if it’s another kind of emergency.  “Hey. What’s wrong?”

 

_You left work eight hours ago and never came back. Kara, I’m trying to cover for you, but Snapper is on a rampage. That article you were editing needs to be ready to go to print tonight. Where are you?_

 

She forgot. She forgot to go back to work. How is she like this? She was so taken aback by what Maxwell Lord told her, what she discovered at that meeting. “It’s a review for a new ice cream shop. Who cares?”

 

 _Are you serious right now?_ Kara flushes, says nothing.  _Your colleague is counting on you to get this done, and you’re not doing your part._

 

 _“_ I never asked to edit this article.”

 

_Your boss asked you to._

 

“Ihad an emergency.”

 

 _What emergency?_ Kara touches her glasses, looks down at the sidewalk. Huffs out some air. People brush past her and she steps back, leaning against the wall of the restaurant.  _This is starting to reflect on me. When I keep vouching for you, and you’re not here, it makes it look like I don’t know how to do my job._

 

“I never asked you to cover for me, James. I don’t need your help.”

 

_Where are you? I can come pick you up._

 

“Why would I need you to do that?” 

 

There’s a long silence on the other end of the line.  _I thought we were in a better place than this._

 

“No, you and Clark are in a better place than this. I’m not him.” Maybe there’s a reason Superman is uncontroversial. She massages her forehead, feels her head throbbing, wishes it could be blamed on the wine. “I have to go.”

 

_Are you going to be here?_

 

She ends the call, pacing before forcing herself to go still. She lets it all rush in. Cars honk, dishes clatter, arguments spiral. It continues to surround her. The racing winds, cries of ecstasy, sobbing, liquid metal guitar, trains, jets, further to the ocean. It comes until she can’t think. She closes her eyes, disappears in the noise. Time shifts meaning for her. Minutes might as well not exist at times. Seconds can make the difference between who lives and who dies. Years may eventually evolve to feel like moments. She doesn’t know how long she’s outside.

 

“Hey.”

 

The rest of the world recedes. Kara opens her eyes, turns to face Lena, leaning against the brick wall with her. They’re separated by half a foot, a gulf, compared to earlier when they sat side by side. Lena looks back at her. The golden light of the restaurant lights the curves of her face. “Hey,” Kara says.

 

“You were gone a while,” she explains. “Everything okay with work?”

 

“Yeah. Um. There’s something I forgot to do. I have to head back.”

 

“I thought I was the workaholic.”

 

Kara smiles. “You’re more efficient.”

 

“Are you going now?”

 

“Pretty soon, yeah. Sorry.”

 

“No, no. I crashed your evening. I hope I haven’t gotten you in trouble.” Kara shakes her head. Lena looks at her a long time. Her eyes are dilated. She bows her head, smiling. “I think I had too much wine.”

 

Kara wonders if she thinks she said too much. “Can you make it home?”

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll call my driver and make it home safe and sound.”

 

“Good.” She hesitates. “Are you feeling okay? I know talking about your mom and that night is hard.”

 

“You know me too well,” Lena says. Kara isn’t sure she agrees. She believes in her, but faith is unknowable. Sometimes there are no answers, only trust. “I keep waiting to stop feeling it. The way she affects me. Sometimes I think I’ll never shake her. And as long as I can’t shake her I’ll keep being drawn back into this Luthor life. All the high stakes drama. The press will have a field day and my name will be dragged through the mud again.” She sighs softly. “It never ends.”

 

She knows the feeling. “I know whatever comes, you’ll survive it.”

 

“Yeah.” Her brow furrows in thought. She half rolls her eyes. “Poor little rich girl.”

 

“I don’t think that,” Kara says. Lena massages the back of her neck, smiles. “Do you ever think about what would happen if she came back into your life?”

 

“More like manifest in a puff of smoke. The Luthors have always had a flair for the dramatic.”

 

“Are you afraid she’ll come after you again?”

 

“I’m not sure if ‘afraid’ is the right word.” She presses her back to the wall. “I’m always looking over my shoulder. I’m half expecting her to pop out from behind the kitchen and attempt another kidnapping.” She smiles wryly. “Kidding. Mostly.” Kara waits. “I don’t know.” Lena tangles her fingers, smiles. “That night was one of the lowest points of my life. She almost talked me into it. Not into going along with her plans, but giving up. Why bother, you know? If it was always going to end the same way.” She’s quiet a long time. “But despite that awfulness, I can look back to you and to Supergirl. I don’t know about that pamphlet. I don’t know about that kind of belief in a higher power. Supergirl’s powerful, but so is the mind, so is science. So is… capitalism.” She frowns. “The fact that you believed in me when no one else did, despite all evidence to the contrary? That’s powerful. It’s a light. Your faith meant everything to me. It still does.”

 

Kara slides her hands into her jacket pockets. She wants to tell her she’ll always believe in her. She knows she’ll always believe in her. “I can’t imagine what that night must have been like for you. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’ll ever give up on yourself. Whatever life throws at you, you don’t stop. You are so much stronger than you know.”

 

Lena straightens against the wall, crossing her arms lightly. She must be cold. Her tone is light. “The Girl of Steel has nothing on me.”

 

Kara smiles. “That’s right.”

 

“You were quiet tonight.” Lena says. “Lost in thought?” Kara gives a small nod. “I guess we all have a sad story.” Kara curls her fingers inside her jacket pockets. “Did we monopolize the conversation?”

 

“No.” She takes a breath, leans her head back against the brick wall. “It’s hard for me to talk about those things. I don’t want to get lost in those feelings. I know everyone here—” she clears her throat, touches her glasses, “at this restaurant— copes differently, and I don’t judge anyone for it. But all this time later I can’t make light of it. I can’t be…” she frowns at the sidewalk, “cool about it. I still miss them.”

 

“Your parents?”

 

“Everyone, yeah.” Everything. Her planet. Her world. Her culture. Her religion. Her family. Her friends. Her dreams. Her future. Her life. 

 

“I’m sorry you lost them. I don’t think anyone is expecting you to be ‘cool’ about it. Of course it still hurts.” Kara looks at her. “Do you want a hug?” 

 

Lena’s cheeks are rosy. Kara isn’t sure if from the wine, the cold, the conversation. They’ve hugged a few times. Lena gives good hugs. Arms locked firmly around her shoulders, fingers drifting along her back, holding her close. Kara rolls her fists until she hears fabric ripping. Stops, straightens her fingers. She’ll have to sew her jacket pockets tonight. Lena’s still looking at her. “I think if you hug me right now I’ll start crying.”

 

Lena waits a while. “Would that be so bad?” 

 

Kara looks away. She hasn’t let anyone hug her since the invasion. She can’t dwell on it. She can’t help anyone if she’s broken.  _Just be Supergirl. That’s all anyone has ever needed of you._ Cat told her that once. That’s what matters. That’s who matters. “I have to get back to work,” she says. Her voice is uneven. 

 

Lena nods, takes a moment. “I’m glad you made it out tonight.”

 

“Yeah.” She looks into the restaurant, Maggie and Sam are talking to the waiter, gathering plates. Kara looks back to Lena. “Um. Will you tell Maggie that I had to—” she digs into her purse, finds her wallet and starts to pull out cash.

 

“You’re not paying. I invited you out; it’s my treat—”

 

“I want to.”

 

“I won’t hear of it—”

 

“Can you please just take it?” She thrusts the money out to Lena, her voice all edges. 

 

A heavy silence follows. Kara’s hand shakes. Lena takes the money. Kara is careful to not let their fingers brush. Seconds stretch out. Kara focuses on Lena’s shoulder, the line that runs to her elbow, the shine of the necklace around her neck.

 

“I’ll let them know you had to run. Kara.”

 

“I’m fine,” she smiles quickly. “I have to go,” she pushes away from the wall, walks straight ahead, listens to Lena’s breath, her footsteps as they eventually turn back into the restaurant, before she launches into the sky. Everyone forgets that she’s faster than a speeding bullet. Faster than Superman. They see her lift buildings. They see her fly. They see her freeze people, shoot heat vision out of her eyes. But they never see her disappear right in front of them. Most never know she was there.

 

X

 

She stops two robberies, a drug deal, and prematurely ends what she initially thinks is a date, when she throws a guy who won’t take no for an answer some fifteen feet against a wall. His arm snaps on impact, and he screams, flopping to the ground cradling the broken arm, bone having ruptured through the skin. Framed pictures fall off the walls and onto him. Supergirl focuses on the girl who looks no older than sixteen and ignores the guy in his late forties, wailing on the floor. 

 

“We should call the police,” Supergirl tells her. “I know someone there who will help you.” The girl cowers on the bed, weeping and unresponsive. Supergirl kneels in front of her. “I know you’re afraid, and I am so sorry this happened to you. You didn’t deserve any of it. We’ll call your mom and tell her what happened. We’ll get you home.”

 

She cries another few minutes. Supergirl waits as she gets the words out through broken sobs. “I  _am_ home. He’s my mom’s boyfriend. She’s at work. I’ve already told her.”

 

Supergirl stills. She looks at the hole on the roof that she crashed through. The scattered fragments of wood and cement dust particles swirling through the air. Broken shingles. “ _I_  believe you. We can go to the police. I’ll go with you to the hospital.” She stops herself from trying to reassure her with a touch. “We can do whatever you want. I’ll help however I can.”

 

“Can you kill him?”

 

Supergirl’s lips part. She can’t feel her fingertips. No one’s ever asked her to kill. No, that’s not true. She has been asked to kill, for the greater good. When the dead would be faceless, collateral damage. “I don’t kill,” she says quietly. Which isn’t always true. She has. When it’s been life or death. How many Daxamites did she wipe out with that lead bomb? She killed Mon-El. She killed Kelly when she caught James and Winn instead. So yes, she has killed. When in that moment, it has been the lives of many, the lives of the innocent, versus the enemy. When it’s come down to those that matter to her. She’s not proud of it.

 

“Then what good are you?” Her eyes have gone dry, snot running down her nose, tears staining her cheeks.

 

 Supergirl looks back at her, helplessly. “We can call the police. I’ll wait here.”

 

“God, what is wrong with you? He  _is_ the police. Just go away. Leave me alone, Supergirl. You can’t help me. No one can help me.”

 

“Let’s just talk about it. I can call a victim’s advocate—”

 

“I said leave me alone!” She pulls the sheet closer to her, turns on her side to cry again, quietly. Shaking. 

 

Supergirl quiets, gets to her feet. She turns her attention to the man on the floor. In that moment she wants to tear him apart, reduce him to mulch. There are so many ways she could do it. She balls her fists, goes to him. She wants to put her foot on his neck, on his crotch, step. She kneels beside him, lowers her face to his sweaty and pale one. “Can you hear me?” 

 

He looks at her. “You have to get me to the hospital.”

 

“Shut up.” He pants, looks at her. “I know who you are now. I know where you live. There isn’t anywhere you can hide that I won’t find you. Do you understand?” 

 

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” He laughs through the sweat and pain. “Face it, Supergirl. You let people do whatever the hell they want. I’ve seen the scumbags you leave for us to clean up. You don’t kill. You won’t do shit to me. You think I can’t survive a broken arm? You fucking aliens think you’re the only ones who are tough?” He spits in her face.

 

Supergirl doesn’t react. She feels it dribble down her cheek, off her chin. She doesn’t realize her eyes are burning heat. He lifts an arm to shield his face from the light. She smells the singe of his arm hair burning before she gathers herself her eyes returning to normal. “You are going to turn yourself in and admit everything you’ve done. If you go near her again, I’ll find you. If you go near anyone else to try to do this, I will find you. And what I do to you will make you wish you were dead. Am I clear?”

 

He laughs at her until she takes him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him into the night sky.

 

X

 

It’s past midnight when she walks into CatCo. The motion lights follow her, coming on until she’s in her office. She throws her purse down in the corner, sits on the desk chair. She doesn’t turn the computer on. She puts her face in her hands, squeezing her eyes shut. She breathes. A small, anguished sound pushes past her lips.

 

Gone are the days when she expected better. Gone are the days when she thought reason and a message of hope were enough to get through anything, and anyone. Was she naive? If she was, Earth has swiftly cured her of any notion that all people are fundamentally good. She reasons that as Supergirl, she comes across more negative elements in one night than most people chance across in their entire lifetimes. She has to remain hopeful, but it’s hard.

 

She hates these nights. The ones without easy solutions. The ones she can’t just fix and be done with. Nights like this are the ones that will haunt her. _Then what good are you?_ The girl said. She thinks to that Children of Rao meeting. She knows she can’t save everyone. Even the ones that she hasn’t scarred have been left twisted, led by that man’s teachings. She is  _not_ a god. A god would do better. A god wouldn’t be torn up by the things she’s seen. A god could have saved that girl from ever experiencing that kind of hurt. 

 

James enters the office, hands in his pants pockets. She glances at him, turns on the computer but says nothing. “I saw you come in,” he says.

 

“I have to take care of this article.”

 

“It’s already been taken care of.” She looks at him. “I didn’t know if you were going to come in and it needed to be done.”

 

She pulls back from the computer, crosses her arms, unfolds them. “Okay.” Snapper is going to be furious. “That’s…”

 

“I asked if you were coming in and you hung up on me.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me before I showed up?” She gets to her feet. “This is a waste of time.”

 

“I didn’t  _tell_ you because I wanted to see you. We need to talk about our call earlier.”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she goes to the corner, grabs her purse.

 

“Well, I do,” he says, standing in front of her.

 

“Get out of my way.”

 

“No.” 

 

Kara looks at him. Stops herself from slamming the purse on the desk. 

 

“Do you even care about this job anymore?”

 

“Do you really want me to answer that question?”

 

He wipes his face with his hand. “You’re going to have to step it up. That other life you’re trying to lead? It doesn’t mean anything without this piece.”

 

“What, editing ice cream articles? High waisted jeans, yes, or no? Or how about screwing up my on-air interviews to the point that I make CatCo look like a laughingstock? Kara Danvers  _sucks.”_

 

“That’s not true.”

 

“No? She doesn’t know how to dress, or how to date,” he looks away from her, “or how to relate to  _anyone._ She’s not a good reporter. Face it, James. She’s not good at  _anything._ How could  _this,”_ she gestures at the office, “or  _that girl_ possibly affect my other life?”

 

“I could refute every single one of your points, but something tells me you wouldn’t be able to hear me.” He shakes his head. Kara stands straight, crosses her arms. “Winn says you’re out patrolling on your own? I’m worried about you.” She feels a smile touch her lips, tight and barely controlled. Looks down at the floor to her penny loafers. “First you dump Morgan Edge in the middle of the ocean, and now you’re dropping cops on the NCPD steps from twelve feet in the air?” Her jaw tightens. “Yeah, that’s all over the news now. Was caught on a cruiser’s dashboard cam. So now he’s got several broken ribs on top of the broken arm. You’re going to lose NCPD’s backing over this.”

 

“I don’t work for them.”

 

“What’s going on with you?”

 

“He deserved it.”

 

“He  _deserved_ it?” He rubs his lips. “I thought we were past that.”  _When you have more power than any human army on earth, you have to be better than this. It won’t be a battle of strength or smarts, or even wills with you,_ he told her once,  _ultimately, it’s going to be a battle of values. Your values versus your enemies._  

 

That meant a lot to her then, but she isn’t sure that’s the right way anymore. What if the greater good is keeping people safe from those that would harm them? No matter the cost. “You don’t know everything.”

 

“I know that you’re retreating into that other life, and your ideals are getting fuzzier. We’ve talked about this. You have to be better.  _You have to be better than all of us.”_ She resents him for looking anguished. “Your fight  _has_  to mean something. This is a slippery slope.”

 

“You don’t know what’s out there. You think things are as easy as they were in the beginning. I’m not fetching cats out of trees,” always. “It’s not as simple as stopping a runaway train, or getting shot at by bank robbers,” her voice is shaking. “I don’t want to be out there half the time.”

 

“Then don’t! Take a break.”

 

“Are you kidding? I can’t  _take a break.”_ Her conversations just keep playing on loop. “I have a responsibility to National City and the rest of the world. I didn’t come here to play board games and have coffee with friends. Every time I do, I feel awful, because I could be doing  _more_. People know about Supergirl now. They’re depending on her to save them. I can’t go back into hiding. I don’t have a choice.”

 

“I know what it’s like to want to go out there and fight, but you have to find a balance. You have to find something to fight for.”

 

“Are you seriously comparing what we do? You put on a tin suit and beat up guys breaking into a pawn shop to get their next fix.”

 

His face hardens. “I’m making a difference.”

 

“No, you’re not, James. You’re soothing your ego.” Her chest feels hot. “I’m sorry if you think having superpowers would make your life more interesting or fulfilling, but that’s not how any of this works.”

 

He blinks. “Wow. Tell me what you really think.”

 

“I just did.” She flexes her jaw. He takes a breath, looks around. She curls her fingers around the edge of the desk, careful not to dent it. “When we’re out there? Only one of us is punching down, and it’s not me. And only one of us is going to get ourselves killed.” He breathes hard. Someone else she’s hurt tonight. “ _Now_  are you going to get out of my way?”

 

He doesn’t budge. “Was there even an emergency earlier?”

 

“What?”

 

“When you were supposed to be here doing your job. Was there an emergency? I wouldn’t ask but— you seem to take this job as a joke, so I’m thinking I have to ask.”

 

Kara thins her lips. “You’re going to get out of my way and I’m going to go home.” He stares at her. “Please don’t make me move you.” They stare each other down. He gets out of the way. She grabs her purse and leaves, taking the stairs to the ground floor. It doesn’t settle her. There will never be enough to drain her of her energy. To tire her. Break her. She exits CatCo.

 

Her phone vibrates. A voicemail from Maggie.

 

_Hey, what the hell is going on with your drop off at the police station? They’ve transported him to the hospital, and let him go, but the officers are asking questions. Call me back._

 

Kara numbs. Keeps walking. Plays the voicemail from Alex.

 

_You’re beating up cops now? Please tell me there’s an explanation. We need to talk about this. The DEO is starting to have some serious concerns._

 

Kara deletes the voicemail.

 

Winn left a voicemail, too.  _These DEO computers are incredible. Got a lead on your Dorian Gray. That’s not his name. Looks like his name is Thomas Coville. Got divorced and went mental. There’s more but uh— let’s talk in person._

 

Lena’s texted.

 

11:40pm  _Made it home safe and sound. I know you like me to text. Sam was happy you came tonight; I’m glad you and Maggie joined us. What do you say to a girls night every now and then?_

 

Kara hears music in the distance. It could be a block away, two miles away, two states over. She isn’t always sure.  

 

The next text message was sent at 11:59pm.  _The wine has undone me. I’m going to bed. Don’t work too late. If you ever need to talk, even about those sad things? I’m here, always._

 

The music comes in more clearly. Kara focuses on it.  _I’m always walking after midnight searching for you._

 

12:02am  _Sweet dreams, Kara._ A hug emoji.

 

Kara’s smile wavers. She blinks her eyes, clears them, exhales shakily, before turning the screen off, dropping the phone back in her purse. She could go to Alex. She could go to Lena. Or Winn. She could apologize to James. She walks home. 

 

 

 

X

 

The car is running.

 

Sam walks out of the alleyway, shielding her eyes from the light of the high beams. The radio is blasting Patsy Cline.  _I’m always walking after midnight searching for you._ The driver’s door is open. She gets inside, closes the car door, reverses slowly and drives the highways, miles of inky black, until she arrives home. Turns off the car.

 

Her head feels like it’s been bludgeoned. Too much wine, maybe. She enters her home, but doesn’t turn any lights on. She takes off her clothes and showers. She smells iron, tastes iron. The stench is so strong it’s like she’s bathing in it. 

 

She showers until she’s clean again, until only the scent of her body wash and shampoo remains. It’s hard to think. Maybe it’s a cerebral aneurysm. Or a brain tumor. It hurts so much. She should call Ruby and tell her she loves her.  _Who’s Ruby?_  She tries to remember but can’t remember. She exits the shower and starts a fresh load of laundry before climbing into bed and pulling the sheets over her head.

 

She’s seeing things and places that aren’t real. Terrified screams ring in her ears. Laughter, too. Shots fired. Music. Too many things at once. She’s drunk. She’s going crazy. She’s freezing. She squeezes her eyes shut and begs for it to stop. In the morning she’ll remember nothing.

 


	4. Air

They’ve been flinging themselves off rooftops, setting fires, driving against traffic, all for a chance to be saved by her and be inducted into the Children of Rao. They have companions; others who have already been saved. _Your faith has been rewarded!_ They falls to their knees in worship. They think they’ve been anointed. They try to touch her boots, her cape. Her. She leaves them in awe. Who has she missed? Who in this city is dying because they’re waiting for some miracle that doesn’t exist?

She needs to find Thomas Coville. Winn told her Coville’s story. A disbarred lawyer who went off the deep end when his wife cheated with a personal trainer. Astra once told her the people on this planet were fragile. Maybe in comparison to Kryptonians. Heartbreak is heartbreak. It changes people. Coville found signs that weren’t there in his desperation to believe in anything again. She saved Alex and a plane full of strangers when it was going down. It wasn’t for him. It was for her. But before that motivated her to act, how many planes did she leave for Kal to take care of? How many forest fires, mud slides? He didn’t get to everybody. She’s just as responsible. She shouldn’t have allowed the Danvers’ fears hold her back. Was she afraid to disappoint them? She should have never let them choose that for her.

Supergirl hovers above the city trying to pin his voice down. She doesn’t remember it the way she should. She’s gone to the community center throughout the week to find it empty. She scans the city, honing in on a squadron of police cars, makes her way down. She smells death, the reek of urine and feces, rotting meat. Blood. There’s so much blood. She lands.

Maggie turns to look at her. “Supergirl.” She looks to the other cops, cocks her head for Supergirl to follow her further into the alley. The smell is overpowering. “Hey,” she lowers her voice, “I’m not sure now is the time for you to be dropping by.”

Kara followed up with her previously, explained the situation with the cop she left at the police station. Maggie listened, jaw tensing, taking notes. 

_You’re going to do something, right?_ Kara asked. _I told that girl there was someone at the police station that could help her. That person was you._

Maggie rubbed her forehead. _I’ll look into it, but if this does or doesn’t pan out— I’m well on my way to being the most disliked cop in all of National City._

Kara shook her head. _It’s okay to be disliked if we’re standing up for the right thing._

_“_ Any update on our previous talk?” Supergirl asks.

“Yeah, the boys in blue are pissed.”

“Why? I mean, that’s their job. To right wrongs.”

“He came in with a broken arm and broken ribs. They know him. They don’t know you,” Maggie walks closer to where the tarp is. “Some of them don’t even like you. I tried to talk to the girl, but she’s underaged. The mom had a right to be there and the girl was mum.”

“Because the mom knew what was going on. She shouldn’t be there— she’s intimidating her.” She gets a hold of herself. “So what does that mean?”

“It means that so far we’ve got nothing. Except a bunch of cops pissed off and distrustful of Supergirl.” Supergirl frowns. “So now it’s up to me to try to get a warrant, but there’s no guarantee a DA or judge will sign off on it. Cops help DAs get convictions.”

“That’s not right. Police should be more accountable than anyone.”

“Maybe so, but that’s how it is. Hey.” She stops. “If nothing comes of this—” Supergirl looks at her. “Sometimes nothing comes of these things. So brace yourself.” Supergirl lowers her head, looks around. Maggie gives her a few moments before moving on. “So here’s a question for you. Are you aware of any other super powered aliens running around National City?” She stoops by the tarp, slips some blue examining gloves on and looks back at her. “We’ve got a bit of a mess here.”

Supergirl tries not to think of the crying girl. Is he going to get away with it? He shouldn’t be able to get away with it. She stiffens her spine. “I can think of a few, but as far as I know they’re all in,” she looks around to see the cops eyeing her suspiciously, “in uh— FBI custody.”

“Look, I hate to ask, but would you mind taking a look? Whoever did this isn’t human. I’ve never seen anything like this before, and I’ve seen a lot of bad shit.”

“Me too.” She settles her hands on her hips, takes a breath. “I can’t promise it’ll help but—” she motions for her to lift the tarp. Maggie does. Supergirl stills. She isn’t sure what she’s looking at. Goo. Blood, bones and goo. She blinks. She’s seen similar during car accidents, plane crashes. But nothing like this. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah. CSI took their pictures. I’m not even sure how you transport something like this to the coroner’s office—”

“Someone. Someone like this to the coroner’s office.”

Maggie nods. “You’re right. Sorry.” She stands. “We’ve had a few metas in the city, but no one that could do anything like this. Daxamites are all gone as far as I know.”

She clears her throat. “Right.”

“Alex told me about White Martians, but I thought they’d all booked it. Parasite is gone. This doesn’t look like something an Infernian could do…”

Supergirl shakes her head. “Maybe a K’Hund? But the only one I know of is locked away — with the FBI.” She stands up straighter. “They’re not as strong as Kryptonians. It would take a while.” She cocks her head, looks around. “It doesn’t look like… whoever this is… got very far.”

“Are there _any_ other Kryptonians out there? Some you might be unaware of? Maybe some that escaped Fort Rozz before you launched it back into space?”

“No, none. It’s just me and Kal. Non is gone. So’s Astra.” Her throat locks again. She waits a moment to continue. “I can’t think of any Green Martian who would do this.”

“This is bad.” Maggie says. She looks up to the buildings at the side. “There’s no way he — or she— jumped. I’ve seen jumpers. They don’t look like this.”

“What about a bomb?”

“No marks, no shrapnel,” she points at the alley walls. “This ‘person’ looks like they were stomped into paste. Can’t even tell how long they’ve been here.”

“A few days at least.” Judging by the smell. Supergirl narrows her eyes, scans the body. Most of the bones have been ground to the size of toothpicks. Others have been reduced to grains.“Hey. I found something.” She sees it, buried in the flesh and blood and skin. “It’s uh— a driver’s license.” She reads the name and license number off, along with the address. Maggie takes the notepad out of her back pocket, writes it down. “Do you know it?”

“Not yet, but wait here. I’ll run a search.” She goes.

Supergirl stays, sees chunks splattered like pancake batter on the brick walls. She looks back to the cops, all looking her over, none too happily. Maggie has a chat with them, their faces going from alarm to amusement. Soon they’re drinking coffee and telling jokes. Maggie returns to her. 

“What’s that about?” Supergirl asks.

“We found him in our system. Criminal record much longer than my arm. Some drug charges, but mostly assaults, specifically domestic violence assaults. Stalking charges…” she thumbs through her phone. “He had an outstanding warrant. Guess that can be recalled.”

Supergirl doesn’t know whether to fault her for the gallows humor. “And now he’s dead and the police are laughing about it.”

“He was a nasty piece of work,” she frowns.  “Look, we can argue about this later, but we have a bigger problem to worry about. Whoever did this is still out there. Maybe they’re a sociopath or maybe they’re a vigilante— but someone with that much power is dangerous. You need to tell the— your people.”

“If I tell them they’ll get up in arms and go into overdrive.”

“What’s your solution? Wait for them to strike again? We can’t risk it. This guy may have been a scumbag but he deserves his day in court like everyone else. And while we’re at it,” she lowers her voice, “you need to start being more careful.”

Supergirl doesn’t bother asking what she’s referencing. “He was attacking her. I had to do something. He’s not a nice guy either, just because he’s a police officer.” Maggie thins her lips. “I didn’t mean to break his arm. I’m… strong. It just happened.”

“Dropping him from that high up at the police station. Did that just happen, too?”

 “If it meant helping her, I’d do it again. You keep working that case and let me handle whatever this is.”

“As it turns out, I have to handle both.” Maggie rubs her lips. “But whatever this is? It’s out of NCPD’s league. We’ll gather what we can, but you need to tell your people about it.” Supergirl paces. “Maybe there’s something we’re overlooking.”

“If he shows up again— I’ll find him. I’ll take him out.”

“Did it occur to you that maybe you won’t be able to stop them? Look at this,” she points. “It’s not just about how strong you are. Whoever did this is _vicious._ You didn’t mean to break an arm. _This_ was intentional. For all we know, the way they killed him might be a message. They might not back down.”

Supergirl plants her hands on her hips, hardens her voice. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m not human. I’ve beaten everyone that’s come at me, including Superman. I’ve made— horrible, difficult decisions.” Maggie breathes slowly. Kara looks up. The buildings feel like they’re reaching down towards her. “I can handle it.”

“You’re not a god.”

Supergirl switches tactics, filling her in on Thomas Coville and the Children of Rao. “You wanted more information, I’ve got more information. Now will you do something?”

“I don’t cover the types of cases you keep bringing to me.” She dips her chin in thought, looks at her, guards her question. “And unless Coville’s telling them specifically to commit crimes, there’s nothing I can do. We can arrest them one at a time, but if they’re zealots? I’m not sure that will put a stop to what they’re doing. It might embolden them. There’s nothing religion loves more than a martyr.”

Supergirl grits her jaw. “Let me know if you find anything else out.” She walks out the alley, past the cops, all of them glaring at her. 

She won’t fly away. She won’t let them intimidate her.

 

X

 

_It’s a genius business move, despicable as it may be._ Morgan Edge grins into the camera before shaking his head solemnly. _Poison the children of National City with the lead-dispersal bomb she trumpeted as having saved the city. Some people will do anything to be a hero, no matter the cost._ There’s chaos in the background, nurses racing off, gurneys being wheeled down halls. _I’d never have the gall for it, but I’m not a Luthor._

_Morgan, are you aware of any children having died from this lead poisoning?_

_Gosh, I hope not._ He mops his forehead with his tie. _I understand you have questions. Did Lena Luthor poison the children of National City to drive business to her children’s hospital, or was it incompetence, borne of lack of foresight? Who can say? I’m just a businessman. It’s your job to find that out. But for now, we should keep the children in our thoughts and prayers. I’m putting my personal feelings for Lena Luthor aside. I’ll be—_

Sam turns the TV off. Lena’s motionless behind the desk. She’s paler than usual. “Lena, you can’t let him get to you.”

Lena touches her palms to the desk, gets to her feet. Her voice is inflectionless. “I need to get to the hospital. I need my driver.”

“Morgan and the press are there. It’s an ambush.”

“I’m _going._ ” 

Sam crosses her arms. “Fine. Then I’m driving.” They take the elevator down, Sam fielding calls from receptionists asking if they ought to connect reporters with questions. Lena stares at the elevator buttons, tilts her head back. Do scientists pray? When the doors open she spots a gaggle of reporters hovering outside the door. “Change of plans,” she takes hold of Lena’s arm, taking them deeper into the building, through the cafeteria of the building, moving through the kitchens. The kitchen staff are ready to protest when they realize who they are, smile instead. Lena’s eyes spark curiosity but she says nothing. Then they’re out in the alley with the dumpster. Two cooks sit on milk boxes smoking. 

“Gentlemen,” Lena nods. They smile.

“This way,” Sam tells her.

They walk a block over to the parking garage, take another elevator to their level. Lena’s heels and Sam’s boots ring out in the silence. When they’re close, Sam unlocks the door. They get in the car. “He will try to goad you, don’t let him do it.” She looks at the rust colored specks on the wheel of the car, previously unnoticed. She frowns. One of Ruby’s chocolate bars? Her nose twitches. She wipes the specks off, looks at her fingertips, hearing cries. A man begging for his mother. 

“If you’re going to drive, drive.”

Sam drives them out of the parking lot, past the news vans that have parked out in front of L-Corp, until they’re on the highway. Lena focuses on her phone, e-mails whooshing. “What are you working on?”

“I’m alerting the CDC. I need every report on this outbreak. And I’ll need the data analyst at the hospital to provide every medical report on all the victims affected by this.”

“What about HIPPA?” Lena glances at her. “Their medical charts are private, even if it’s your hospital. That data’s protected.”  

“The only thing I care about right now is finding out what’s causing this and how to fix it. If children have been poisoned—” she steels her jaw, looks back to her phone. “We can debate the ethics later. Drop me off somewhere If this is going to be a problem for you. I’ll find my own way there.”

“I said I’d drive you and I’ll drive you.” Even if she’s already imagining the public relations disaster this could be. Lena continues work on her phone, making calls, sending emails. Sam’s phone rings. Sam finds it on the dashboard. “Sorry, it’s Ruby,” she tells Lena. “Rubes, what is it? It’s not a good time.” She listens. Ruby is in hysterics. “Honey, slow down. _Breathe_.” Ruby slows down. Breathes. “Now tell me what happened.” Ruby does, between tears. Children at the school have collapsed, unable to catch their breath. Her friend Luke is in the hospital. “What about you, are you feeling okay?” She feels Lena’s stare. “Okay,” breathes easier. “I’m sorry you had to see that. That must have been scary. Luke is going to be okay. This is all going to be okay.” She listens, feels her heart ache. “I don’t want you to think about that. You call me the second anything changes, okay? Call me, call 911 if anything changes. Okay. I love you, too, Ruby. Bye.”

Lena looks at her. “Ruby’s okay?”

Sam focuses on the highway. “Ruby’s okay.”

“If she wasn’t?”

Sam hears the question for what it is. Her fingers tighten on the steering wheel. There’s something hot in her chest, like heartburn, coursing through her veins, making her hot as the sun. She looks at Lena, sees only a skeleton, like an x-ray, weaves into the other lane of traffic. Cars slam on their brakes and honk. 

“Sam, what the hell!” Lena drops her phone, grabs the door.  “Are you okay?”

Sam gets back into their lane. Her heart strains against her chest. She can’t breathe. She can’t shut her eyes. She can’t pull over. It’s as if she were drowning, something filling her from the inside. Contact on her arm. Sam looks at her. Just Lena again. Just flesh. ** Crack crack crack  ** . She rubs her eyes, focusing on the highway. “Sorry. God. I just…” she shakes her head. Gets air into her lungs again. Comes down, relieved, near jubilant. She doesn’t know what the hell that was. There’s music playing. Violins. _Can you hear that?_ It’s obvious Lena can’t. She’s hallucinating. It’s stress. It’s worrying about Ruby, afraid she’ll be next. Maybe she should get tested as long as she’s heading to the hospital. She’s afraid to get checked out. If it’s awful, she can’t bear the thought of having to tell Ruby, of leaving her alone in a world like this.

“I know you’re worried, but I’m going to get to the bottom of this, Sam. One  way or another.”

“You didn’t do this. This is a tragedy that Edge is taking advantage of. Nothing more.”

“The news alerts are already starting to pour in. _Did Lena Luthor Poison the Children of National City?_ ” She laughs caustically, puts a hand to her forehead, slips on a pair of sunglasses. 

Sam looks at the clouds in the sky. “Whatever their accusation, it’s likely the result of some chemical spill somewhere. We can sue for libel.”

“And if it was my doing? My bomb? My formula? I appreciate the sentiment, Sam, but a Luthor should never get too comfortable,” she shakes her head, “anything we do, no matter the intent, how careful, it gets twisted. It’s almost as if we’re incapable of being good.” Lena looks out the window, exhales slowly.

Sam drives faster.

 

X

 

She drops Lena off at the ER, away from the media gathered just across the street from the entrance. The hospital is a war zone. She circles the lot looking for parking, can’t find any and settles on the parking garage. Thirteen floors later and she finds a space. Sam climbs out of the car. Seagulls shriek in the distance; there’s a bite to the wind. She takes the steps down five floors. The media clamors excitedly. She goes to the railing and looks out. Morgan Edge walking out of the hospital. The media chases after him. All look up at the same time, smile at her with wide grins, eyes focused on her. She shivers. Another two floors down and she sees him straightening his jacket and tie. _What matters now is helping those poor children. Then, we find out why this happened. How Lena Luthor could have had such a glaring oversight. What other products and technologies is L-Corp putting out that are ticking time bombs?_ Sam walks down another floor. _Those are all the questions I’m taking. This isn’t the time for grandstanding. We need to focus on those children._

She’s ready for another flight of stairs when she sees the numbers ticking on the elevator. She walks down another floor, hears the chime of the elevator. Footsteps. The beeping of a car. She watches him. He walks, a bounce in his step, smiling, jangling keys in his hands. She moves away from the flight of stairs, walks towards him. 

“Sorry, no autographs today,” he stops and looks at her. “I know you. Samantha Arias. Name like a songbird.” He breaks out into his cartoon grin, only the ding and the spark missing. “You jumped ship from Fletcher Industries at the wrong time. Today must be a public relations disaster for you.” 

“I’m sure you’re loving every minute.”

He looks coyly at her, smiles, begins to loosen his tie again. “Don’t believe those rumors about me. My bark is worse than my bite. I wish Lena no ill will.”

“Children could be dying and you look like you won the lottery.”

“Pah. The lottery is so pedestrian. Don’t tell me you’re stupid enough to believe that Lena’s lead bomb is somehow _not_ responsible for the sudden rash in lead poisoning.” He laughs. “When was the last time you’d heard of it before this outbreak?” He stares at her, his cartoon grin still on his face. Sam looks back at him. “What’s Lena paying you at L-Corp? Pennies? I’ll double it. Triple it.”

“Four pennies?” She smiles. “No wonder you can’t keep staff.” 

He laughs. “I’ve been accused of many things, Ms. Arias. Being cheap isn’t one of them.”

“Mh. Still. Bold, but not-so-smart offer for someone who doesn’t know if I’m any good in my position.”

His eyes trail over her. “Oh, I imagine you’re good in all kinds of positions.”

The light peels away from the garage, from the ceiling, from the walls. Color fading. The sky blotted away. She is dropped in ink and shadows.

  _The truth is those children are going to die._ **_That’s_ ** _going to be her legacy._

A car honks, disorienting her. Sam jumps out of the way, gets the finger as the woman screams at her through her car window. Sam’s on another level of the parking garage. Morgan Edge is nowhere to be seen. How did she get here? Did she faint? She climbs up the two floors to where she was. No one. Nothing is amiss. She has her purse, her keys. Nothing lost but time. 

 

X

Kara waits outside the community center. It’s quiet. The day is grey and drab. Finally he arrives in a beat up, wood-paneled Volkswagen. Thomas Coville steps out of the car, reaching back inside to grab a box, shutting the door with his shoulder. 

Kara has it planned out. She’ll tell him she wants to do a story on the Children of Rao. Or she’ll ask what motivated him to start this chapter. She’ll discourage him from continuing. He’ll abandon this and find meaning somewhere else. Coville stops. Looks back at her. They’re thirty feet apart. His smile is beatific. Kara goes to stone in his unwavering gaze. He shouldn’t be looking at Kara Danvers that way.

Her cell phone vibrates in her jacket pocket and she nearly jumps. She turns away from Coville, looks at her phone. An email blast from CatCo. _Whoever is closest to the Luthor Children’s Hospital, get to Lena Luthor now and get a quote. Details from hospital staff about the lead poisoning are key. Whoever gets pictures might be looking at a promotion._

Kara slips the phone back in her pocket. Coville is still looking at her. This is the moment she’s been waiting for. She moves away from the area and heads to the Luthor Children’s Hospital. Not a minute later she’s there, straightening her clothing. The security guards are fighting with the media. “Step back, you need to step back, we need room for any emergency personnel coming this way—”

Kara moves past them. She needs to get to Lena. She scans with her hearing, picks a direction. _You want to see him? After you did this?_ A man says. _If my boy dies—_ Kara walks briskly into the hospital, _if he dies, I swear to God you’re next—_ she moves faster. _You’re no different —_ she pushes past the double doors of the long hallway, into the second reception room, _you’re just like you’re goddamned family—_

He lunges. 

Kara watches it in slow motion. Lena is perfectly still. Her eyes are clear and empty. The man’s face is red, and feral, hands like claws, reaching for Lena. Kara’s footsteps ring. Nothing else moves. No one else moves. She sees a paper airplane thrown by a boy in the corner, frozen in the air. The other patients are a photograph, vague interest, some alarm, that same furious gaze—

Kara moves to stand in front of Lena. 

Time spills forward. His hands slam into her. It must have felt like trying to scoop a wall. He’s confused, wondering where she’s come from. Kara sucks in her breath, hopes they’ll attribute it to the heat of the moment, flaring tempers. “Step away from her right now, sir.” He pushes her instead. Kara pretends to stumble. Lena takes careful hold of Kara’s arm, shoves her behind her.

A guard comes over, pays little attention to Lena, focuses on her. “Are you okay, Miss?” Kara nods. He turns his attention to the man. “You have to go or we’re calling the police.”

“No, it’s fine,” Lena says. “His child is ill. He should stay. I’ll go.” She starts walking. 

“Yeah, run away!” He yells after her. Kara sees the tears in his eyes, hears the strain in his vocal cords, “poison our children and go!”

Kara thins her lips, hurries after Lena. She’s seen Lena throw down before. She was going to let that man hit her. Maybe she thought she deserved it. _What can I do?_ She wants to ask. But she says nothing.

 

X

Lena rests her hands on the sink. Kara stands by the paper towel dispenser. She exhales softly, locking the bathroom door with her breath. All she wants is for Lena to have a moment of peace. She wonders if Lena will ever have a moment of peace. 

It’s been minutes of silence. Lena has survived disaster after disaster, walking away from assassination attempts with a glib remark. Kara hasn’t seen this stillness since Jack died. Kara touches her belt buckle, the chain of the necklace her mother gave her. 

Lena clears her throat gently. She stands in front of the mirror but doesn’t look at the reflection. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

It’s small in here. Kara takes a step closer and the room expands. “I’m okay. He didn’t hurt me.” Relief ripples through Lena’s features. “And… I’m just here as Kara Danvers. In case you were wondering,” she says more quietly. Lena’s shoulders slump, losing some of their tension. “Are _you_ okay?”

Lena lifts her head, smiles. “This is my worst nightmare.” She looks away from her. Kara watches her reflection. “I should get back out there. I need to start looking over the medical reports. I need to… I need to do _something._ This must be a mistake.” She faces her again. “I was so careful, Kara. I looked at that formula. I studied it again and again. I wouldn’t give something like this to Supergirl.”

“I believe you.” A long silence follows. “I know you want to go back out there right now, and you will. But let’s just take a few minutes.” Kara takes another step closer, standing a foot apart from her now. “Remember when I told you that when I was having a panic attack, what helped was time and space?” Lena nods. “When I don’t have that option I… try other things. And I’m not saying you’re having a panic attack now, but maybe you could… use a little breather.” Lena looks at her, unsure. “I’ll do it with you if you want.”

“I’m not sure what… I can’t waste a moment, Kara.”

“It’s better to catch it in the beginning. Otherwise it might come out at the worst possible time, when we’re overwhelmed. When I was young, I lost it in an amusement park ride. One of those…” she licks her lips, “fake spaceship ones that swing. It stopped midair,” she tries to pull away from the memories. Of that park ride. Of leaving Krypton. It’s easier when she focuses on Lena, who looks at her the way she’s looking at her right now. “I know it’s a little hokey,” her cheeks flush, “but I think we should try it. If you hate it, we walk out of here and we do whatever you want. It’s up to you.”

“I haven’t heard you make an offer like that in a while.” She bows her head, smiles. “I must be in bad shape.”

Kara doesn’t know what to say. Sometimes she wonders if she only became a journalist because she was lost, and Lena made an off-hand remark when she was tagging along with Clark. She’s never been good with words. She can’t speak. She leans forward, brushes a soft kiss to Lena’s temple, instead. A small impulse. Kara freezes. Only breath hangs between them. She shouldn’t have done that. Her mouth is dry. “I’m sorry if that wasn’t okay.”

Lena looks at her, that glassy vacancy retreating. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

Kara’s heart stirs. Their eyes are the same, and it pains her. “Close your eyes,” she says. Lena waits a moment longer. Closes her eyes. “I’m closing my eyes, too.” She does. “So now we take deep, lungfuls of air,” she moderates her voice, making it softer, lower so Lena has to chase it, focus on it. “And we exhale. Try it with me.” Kara feels the shift in the air, feels Lena taking those breaths, releasing them in time with her. “Good. You’re doing great. Focus on your feet on the ground. Touch the sink again.” Lena shifts, her fingers brushing Kara’s, the sleeve of her jacket.

“Sorry,” Lena says.

“That’s okay.” A moment. “Focus on the texture of my sleeve.”

“Tweed.” She hears the smile in her voice.

Kara smiles, too. “Concentrate on that fabric beneath your hand. How it feels. And let’s just breathe together a little longer.” They do, Kara concentrating on the weight of Lena’s fingers on the jacket, feeling the small vibration of that pressure to her skin like a hum. Eventually Lena’s breathing comes easier, not the halting, broken thing of before. “Okay. You can open your eyes.” She waits an extra moment before opening hers. Lena’s looking at her. “It’s okay if it didn’t help.”

“It helped.”

They share their silence, holding each others gaze. 

The door to the bathroom swings open. Sam smiles with relief. “Hey. I thought I heard you two in here.”

 

X

Lena doesn’t look up when Kara walks into the office. She continues to type furiously, brow furrowed. Kara can imagine the anguish she’s feeling. She, Sam and Lena separated when they returned to L-Corp. Kara took a walk around the district, calling Winn, asking him to study the lead bomb and anything that could potentially link it to the outbreak.

_Do you really think the bomb could be responsible?_ He asked.

_No. But we need something concrete. We have to find something to back her up._ She touched her glasses. _You’ve been able to do this before. Please, Winn._

Maybe he heard something in her voice. He hesitated. _I’ll run some tests and let you know ASAP._

_Thank you,_ she said stiltedly. She wasn’t sure what else to say. She ended the call and went to one of the smoothie shops around the corner before returning to L-Corp. She clears her throat. 

Lena looks up, smiles wearily. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” 

Kara smiles. She’s been gone half an hour. “I got you a kale smoothie. It has pineapple, coconut water, greek yogurt,” she scrunches her nose thinking, “and matcha green tea. It’s for energy. I would have gotten Big Belly Burger, but something tells me a food coma is _not_ what you need right now.” Kara sits in front of the desk, gives her the smoothie.

Lena takes it with a smile. “You’re a lifesaver. Thank you.” 

“ _But,_ ” she pulls out another small bag from her purse. “Don’t think I came without emergency reserves. Chocolate chunk cookies with seasalt. All butter. Chocolate chunks as big as our heads.”

“I guess we all have to be bad sometimes,” her smile dampens. She looks in the bag. “They smell incredible.” 

Kara nods. “They just came out.” She asked for the freshest batch. Silly. A warm chocolate chip cookie can’t undo this day. 

“I can’t wait to dive into them. And you’re helping.” She has a drink of the smoothie. “I’m stepping down from L-Corp.”

“What?”

“L-Corp stocks are plummeting. That’s the second time in weeks.” The first time was at the Waterfront. “For all I know the DA is drafting a warrant for my arrest. And if that happens and the police comes— I can’t _be_ here. Not as CEO. It’s not just about my livelihood and my assets. It’s about my employees, the researchers, the engineers… The projects they’re working on could save lives, change lives for the better. The longer I stay here, the more I jeopardize all of that.”

“But…” she feels tired and low. “There has to be another way. You’ve worked so hard. Sacrificed so much.”

“Not enough. Maybe it will never be enough. ” Her smile is pale. Kara thinks of the times Lena has helped save National City and the world. But Supergirl gets the credit, the cheers, the love. Lena gets threats. Suspicion. Hatred. “It’s the right thing to do. I’ve already asked Sam to step in as acting-CEO, at least until this matter is resolved. Did she mention Ruby’s friend Luke was poisoned?”

“No, she didn’t.”

Lena takes another drink of the smoothie. “I tried to pay for the hospital stay for everyone— but that snake Edge had already taken care of it. God, I must sound petty.”

Kara saw the news video while she was walking around the block. Morgan Edge lecturing Lena on live television about the cobra effect, the snake problem in Delhi and unintended consequences, while a crowd gathered around Lena. Lena’s jaw was set hard, her hands not balled up, but flat and shaking. Maybe she wanted to slap him, but she was in control.

“You’re not petty. I know if you wanted to offer help, it was out of goodness. I’m not sure Edge would have if the cameras weren’t rolling.”

“Well, to be honest, it makes for excellent PR. L-Corp is a company that could stand to benefit from good PR. Namely due to me.” Kara waits. “I wish I could say I was purely philanthropic, but I’m a businesswoman. I intend to thrive and make a profit. I need that good name to do the work that needs to be done. Maybe that’s selfish.”  

“You’re in a difficult position. But I think that… sometimes the right thing to do, makes us feel good, too. That’s okay.”

Lena reaches into the bag, pulls out a cookie, splitting it in half. She gives half to Kara, along with napkins. Kara chases the crumbs across the desk. Settles back against her chair. “A few months ago, at a meeting with all the entrepreneurs of National City, and the Mayor, Edge told me that guilt wasn’t a good business policy.”

Kara has a part of the cookie. Good. Maybe too buttery, too sweet. The salt mellows the taste. “What made you think of that just now?”

“This whole thing with him taking care of the hospital bills.” She breaks off a small piece of the cookie, eats it delicately. “These were a good idea.” Kara smiles. “I know you’ve reported on the reconstruction efforts, the millions L-Corp invested. But maybe he’s right. Maybe I wouldn’t have helped if I hadn’t been directly responsible for the invasion.”

Kara frowns gently at the napkins on her lap, watching Mon-El’s face go grey, ships swarming into National City through the gate. She will always make the decision she made. Lena wouldn’t. She can’t blame Lena for what happened. She was manipulated. She’s always been manipulated. She’s told her some of Rhea, how she nurtured her. She must have been so thirsty for mentoring, for an acknowledgment of her potential. For kindness. “You stopped it.”

“Supergirl stopped it. I…” She bites her lip, sets the cookie down.

Kara wonders if she can’t say it. Her phone vibrates. “I’m sorry, do you mind?” Lena shakes her head. Kara glances at the phone. It’s Winn. _Uh. So not great news. There’s a 15% chance the lead bomb is responsible for the lead poisoning._ Kara stares at the message, feeling herself go numb. Another message comes in. _I’ll keep working on it and let you know if I’ve made a mistake. I know it isn’t what you wanted to hear. :(_

“Everything okay? You look a little pale.”

Kara puts the phone away. “Just a work thing.” Lena still looks concerned. Of course she’s concerned for her even when she’s got so much going on. Just like the night Metallo took her, and Supergirl’s safety was her priority. “They wanted me to … well. Be working.”

“Kara. You should go.”

“I will. I will, eventually. Later. And don’t worry— this is all… still off the record.”

“Well, you don’t have your little pad and pencil out the way you do when it’s work.” She smiles. “I’ll take you at your word. I always take you at your word.”

Her face warms. She doesn’t know whether it’s from the compliment or what she’s hiding from her. “Thank you.” She gently pushes the cookie to Lena again. Lena picks it up. “So I think… about what you said just now and the reconstruction efforts...that a lot of the time, when things are hard, we think about what we would do if things were different. Or if we could change the things that have happened. I think about that a lot. I think about my family that’s gone, and what I would have said if… if I could have done something different,” she thinks of Astra, waits for the usual burning in her eyes but it isn’t there. “But I think ultimately what matters is what we do in the moment. Or what we choose to do when all the pieces fall into place. Or when they’re scattered, maybe. I know we’ll always disagree about what happened with the invasion. And I know that I can’t take your feelings away about what happened, even if I wish I could. But at the end of all of that, you chose to help. You poured millions into restoring this city and doing the necessary outreach for those affected by what happened. I saw you walking amongst the rubble. You haven’t forgotten what happened. I see how it still weighs on you. I think it would be easy to say… you know, you paid it forward, and it’s done. But you’re always thinking of how to help. Even now. I know I’m… just Kara Danvers.” She touches her glasses. “I’m not…” she takes a small breath. “Special. I’m not much good at anything. Especially lately. But I think what you’ve done is remarkable. And you’re not going to change my mind.”

Lena pushes a lock of hair behind her ear, leans forward, meeting her eyes, smiling before looking away and back at her. Her cheeks are flushed. “Is this payback for putting you on the spot during our girls’ night?” 

Kara laughs, smiles. She probably looked like a tomato when Lena called her a hero. “Maybe, maybe.” 

“I can’t say it’s not deserved. Less wine next time.” She looks at her a while. “You know… I’ve heard everything you’ve said and I appreciate it. I know I was well intentioned but… with Luthors… maybe it’s a sign. A reminder that I need to take a step back from all of this. Maybe when it comes to ambition and drive… dreams… for Luthors it’s too much like Icarus. Every time we fly too close to the light, to the sun— we fall.”

Kara shakes her head. “This isn’t over yet, Lena. We don’t know what’s causing this. You can’t give up.” Is she being naive? Fifteen percent chance the lead bomb caused the outbreak. If Lena is responsible? Kara doesn’t want to think about what it’ll do to her. 

“I’m not giving up.” She leans back into the chair again, takes a breath. “I’m holding a press conference. I’ll let the public know that I’m stepping down from L-Corp.” She smiles. “You can tell CatCo you have the scoop. Breaking news.” She means it.

Kara shifts in her seat. “Um. What do you mean you’re holding a press conference?”

“Where I announced I was re-branding Lex-Corp to L-Corp; it’s a space for big occasions. I’ll tell them that I’m stepping down, that Sam will be in charge while this whole situation is sorted—”

“I’m sorry, Lena, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She leans forward in the chair, almost takes her hand across the desk, but doesn’t. “Someone tried to assassinate you there. It’s… a wide, open space.”

“They tried at the Waterfront too, Kara. They’ll try anywhere. They’ve tried here. Multiple times.”

“Okay, but— This is different. People are angry and upset. They’re blaming you for all of this. It’s not safe.”

Lena’s smile is gentle. “You and Supergirl. Always worried.”

“Maybe— but for good reason.” The rebranding, the gala, the Waterfront. “I hate that you’re a target. But you’re a target. What I saw at that hospital today scares me. If people are blaming you for their children—” or if Morgan Edge seeks to take advantage again— “I… just have a bad feeling about all of it.”

“Kara.” She’s calm and measured. “I’ve never backed down before and I’m not backing down today. I can’t hide because I’m afraid. Because people are threatening me. I’d never get anything done. And then they’d win. I have a responsibility to my company and my staff. If I hid they’d know they can intimidate me. I can’t allow that.”

“It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

“I have,” she reaches across, touches her hand. “But _thank you_ for your concern.” She smiles a little. “With you, Supergirl, and Sam around— It’s strange having people in my life that worry about me.”

“Sam’s worried, too?”

“She didn’t even want me to go to the hospital. Now there’s all that awful footage of me floating around. Silent while a man is speaking. She told me not to let him goad me. And I didn’t but—” she sighs. “I suppose there are worse things that could be on all the news networks right now.

“It was good advice. What do you plan on doing after momentarily stepping down from L-Corp?”

“It’s not as if I’m really stepping down. I’ve got a lot of CDC research to sort through, medical files to explore. I’ll hold any assets until this is resolved, and everything related to the Luthor Children’s Hospital will have to go through Sam for a while. Whether I did this or not— I don’t have the luxury of angsting about it. What matters now is fixing it. And if this is related to the lead bomb, then I should be able to extrapolate a cure.” She glances at the computer. She’s been doing that for a while. “No one’s died,” she tells her, her smile not quite steady as she says it.

“I’m going to the press conference with you. You can’t stop me.”

Lena smiles. “As if I could.”

Kara stands. “Do you think it’d be okay if I checked on Sam?”

“Good idea. She might be nervous. I’ll text you the details for your breaking news in a few minutes.” Kara nods, walks to the door. “And Kara?” She stops. “‘Just’ Kara Danvers? I like her a lot.”

Kara only seems to be able to move when Lena’s phone rings and the spell that held her is broken.   

 

X

 

Sam’s sitting behind her desk, staring at the computer screen with a hand to her forehead as if trying to work out a particularly vexing problem. Kara doesn’t envy her glass walls. She hesitates. It’s not only Lena who’s having a difficult day. The last thing Sam needs is a relative stranger dropping by unasked. Maybe she should head back, or focus on e-mailing CatCo in the meantime. She’s ready to turn when Sam lifts her head, smiles tiredly. Kara waves. Sam gestures for her to come in.

Kara does, careful to gently close the door behind her. There are a stack of files on Sam’s desk, and two laptops. Two cell phones. Kara wonders how she juggles it all. 

“I know it’s a bad time,” Kara says.

Sam smiles, pushes the computers aside, shifting the files to better look at her. “I came into work this morning thinking ‘this should be an easy day’. I should know better. Sit,” she nods to the chair in front of the desk. Kara sits. “Uh, so are you working this? Your people have been calling me.”

“My people?”

“CatCo. To be fair, they’re trying to reach Lena, but the receptionists are sending them to me.” She crinkles her nose. “I know this sounds nefarious, but I’m really starting to dislike reporters.”

Kara smiles. “We’re just doing our jobs. But I can’t say I like the idea of all these people following Lena around.”

“Yes! Thank you! See? We’re not so different, you and I,” she says, a twinkle in her eyes before sighing. “It’s been nonstop since this morning.”

“It sounds like a lot to manage.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Um. Lena did tell me that she’s planning on doing a press conference. She said I could break the news to CatCo. Or— let CatCo break the news,” she tugs a little on the collar of her shirt. “You’re going to be standing in for her as CEO.” 

Sam’s gaze turns analytical. “She asked me to. I agreed.”

“But?” There’s a beat. “I’m asking — I guess not as a friend.” She isn’t sure she knows how anymore. “We just met. Maybe as an acquaintance?”

“Why not as a reporter?” Sam asks. “It’s a big news day.”

Kara shrugs a little helplessly. “I don’t want to do that today.”

“Because you and Lena are close?”

Kara squirms in the chair. She thought she locked that bathroom door at the hospital, but Sam opened it. She must have just thought she’d locked the door. _Are_ she and Lena close? “She’s having a hard day. Maybe when this is all over I can write a story.”

“Isn’t modern day journalism about getting news out to the masses right away? There’s nothing the media loves more than to break news.”

She can’t disagree. “We don’t know all the facts yet. Anytime anything goes wrong, people default to blaming Lena.” She’s had few journalistic successes. Most have been about Lena, most after the fact when all the facts have been gathered. She can’t mess it up. Lena deserves her best work. Readers, too.

Sam looks at her a while. “You’re a good friend.” Something has gone unsaid. Maybe _but not a good reporter._ “To tell you the truth, I’m relieved it’s you and not someone else with an angle. So… let’s start at acquaintances and maybe work our way up to something more?” A beat. “Friends, I mean. God. Talk about putting my foot in my mouth.”

“I know all about that,” she waves it away, smiles. “It’s fine.”

“I appreciate the pass. You asked about stepping in as CEO. It wasn’t anything I was expecting. Not today, not ever. I’ve always tried to stay in my lane, keep my head down, do my job well.”

“But you made an exception for Lena.”

“It’d be stupid not to do it. If she asked, it’s because she trusts me to do it well.”

“And because she trusts you, period.” Kara knows how hard that is for her.

She takes a breath. “I just want this situation to blow over as soon as possible. Let’s be honest, no one’s going to be stepping in as CFO, while I’m standing in as CEO. It’s a lot of work.” She frowns lightly. “With this— I might finally have to be that mom missing her daughter’s soccer games.”

“Did you tell Lena? Your concerns.”

“No. She’s handing me opportunities on silver platters. She knows what’s going on with me. I know what’s going on with her. We’re professional. She trusts me to tell her what I can and can’t do.”

“Then you feel confident stepping in?”

Sam laughs. “I’m still running around like a chicken with my head cut off as CFO. I’ve never worked for a company this big. I’ve never aspired to be CEO. I’ve known what my priorities are— Ruby. And a woman CEO, right?” She rolls her eyes. “They’re as common as two dollar bills. Lena’s the exception, not the rule.”

“What if this turns into a long-term thing?”

“I don’t think that will happen. And if it did, there’s a board of directors who would likely oust me quickly.” She lowers her voice. “L-Corp’s stock is nosediving. This isn’t the first time. It’s being bought up and it’s being bought up fast. Guess who my number one suspect is?”

Morgan Edge. “I have no idea.”

“Mr. Pink Speedo himself: Morgan Edge.”

“Do you think Lena knows?”

“Lena’s smart. She hasn’t said anything to me, but she must have her suspicions.” She taps her fingers on the desk. 

“It must feel good for her to have you here. Someone to… help shoulder the burden, I guess.”

“I hope so. I don’t know how she did it on her own for so long. But no one’s tougher than Lena.”

“That’s something the two of you have in common. Being tough. Fending for yourselves,” Kara says. Sam smiles, her eyes becoming hazy, lost in thought. Kara thinks of their walk to the car at the hospital, the way Sam’s eyes wandered. “Hey. I hope I’m not overstepping, but Lena mentioned that Ruby’s friend is sick.”

“Luke, yeah. Ruby loves him. He’s one of the few kids that took to her right away when she started school here. Sat with her at lunch when no one else would.”

Kara thinks back to her first school lunches, on her own. Sometimes Alex would grudgingly sit with her, but often she wanted her to join her friends at another table. The kids were older. Cooler. Kara felt like the alien she was. Everyone on Earth was loud. And whatever they were thinking, they just said it. Who they liked, who they didn’t like, who was worth less. It was strange, hearing them be so forthcoming. It was as shocking as if they’d gone to the bathroom in the middle of the cafeteria. “Luke is a special boy. Ruby’s lucky. Were you able to see him at the hospital?”

“Only briefly. His parents were there. They’re a wreck,” she runs a hand through her hair. “Just like I would be if I was in their shoes.”

“I hope he recovers.”

“Me, too. I’m not ready to have _that_ talk with Ruby yet.”

Kara doesn’t know what talk she means. Ruby’s twelve. People die. But she thinks of innocence, loss at twelve or younger. Better to ward it while you can. Or maybe what Sam means is that _she_ can’t bear the idea of telling her daughter that children die, sometimes for no reason, sometimes because Supergirl pushed a button to detonate a lead bomb. “There are a lot of angry parents. A lot of angry people.”

“And Lena’s holding a public press conference.”

Kara breathes a sigh of relief. “I tried to talk her out of it.”

“Good luck changing Lena’s mind when she gets an idea into her head.”

Kara nods, despite thinking it’s one of her more admirable qualities. “I know Lena has security, but I think the NCPD should be there just in case. I’m going to call Maggie in a bit and see if she and a few other officers can make it. The more eyes on the ground, the better.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“Do you remember what Lena said about Tuesdays? It wasn’t that much of an exaggeration.”

“What have I gotten into?” 

“Having second thoughts?”

“I gave Lena my word.” Sam leans back into her chair, contemplative. “You’ve got pull with the NCPD. That’s…impressive. How did you meet Detective Sawyer?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘pull’.” She’s embarrassed. She isn’t even sure Maggie likes her. “She dated my sister a while ago.”

“Did you like her or were you glad when they broke up?”

Kara scratches her neck gently. Maggie took Alex away. There was a time, she’s ashamed to admit to herself, that she resented her. “I didn’t really know her. But she made my sister happy so— I guess— yes, I did like her.” When they broke up she was less sure, but she’s never questioned Maggie’s work ethic and integrity. That means something. Maybe that’s why it’s easier to turn to her than the DEO. The NCPD — or Maggie, at least, has lines she won’t cross. “Do you have siblings? I don’t think you mentioned any the other night.”

“No siblings. Only child. Well, _maybe._ I’m adopted, so for all I know, I do have sisters from another mister out there.” 

Kara looks at her, surprised. Maybe that’s what’s made her curious about Sam. Maybe that’s the energy she’s putting out. “I’m adopted, too.”

“ _Really_?” Sam shakes her head, smiles. “Small world. And Lena thought she was adopted. And Maggie was practically adopted by her aunt.” Kara didn’t know that. Maybe it shows. “When you and Lena talked outside I asked her how she made it. Losing your family at fourteen is rough. Your adoptive parents are okay?”

“They’re great. Eliza’s a scientist. Jeremiah was a scientist, too.” So was her father on Krypton. He practically lived in the lab. He was going to keep Krypton safe. She thinks to her family. Myriad. Medusa. Keep Krypton safe at all costs. They failed both times. She takes solace in knowing that that’s it. That their misguided love for Krypton, their weapons of destruction have all been stopped. They’re safe. Maybe their legacy can be something that isn’t completely shameful. “But he’s gone now.” 

Sam nods. “Did you know your birth parents?”

“Yes. They’re gone, too. In an accident,” she smiles nervously, touches the button on her jacket sleeve. “I was twelve.”

“That’s so young. But old enough to remember,” she shakes her head. “It breaks my heart to think of Ruby on her own.”

“I’m sorry if I worried you about today. It’s going to be fine.” She’ll make sure it is. “You won’t leave her alone.”

“Thanks. No one ever warns you that becoming a parent turns you into a crazy person.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy. I’m not a parent, but I think that’s what every good parent does. Make sure their children are okay. But what about you? Have you ever met your birth parents? Or… do you know anything about them?” A small crinkle touches Sam’s brow. “I’m sorry if that’s invasive.”

“It wasn’t.” She looks at her a long time. “I haven’t really talked about this stuff with anyone. I never looked for my parents. I figured— they didn’t want me, I was adopted. That could have gone better, but I was taken care of until I was old enough. Whatever my issues with Patricia, at least she did that. But lately I’ve started giving it a little more thought.” 

Kara cocks her head. “What changed?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s … having a group of women in my life for the first time in—” she scoffs, “since high school. Women with similar experiences. I mean, I’d never met anyone that was adopted and in the span of weeks I’ve met three.” Kara smiles. “And… I’ve been getting headaches lately. Like— really bad headaches. I wish I could blame them all on Morgan Edge, but they’re… can’t-get-out-of-bed bad.”

“That sounds awful. Do you think they’re migraines?”

“That’s the thing, I’m not sure what my family history is. Maybe they are migraines? I googled it and WebMD told me I have a tumor. Which is terrifying. I went to Rite Aid and bought a bottle of Advil migraine pills, but they haven’t helped.”

“I used to get really bad headaches, too.”

“What helped?”

Kara smiles. Touches her glasses. “Maybe you just need to get your eyes checked out. Sometimes it’s… well, the little things we’re overlooking.”

“Yeah, could be,” she smiles, even if she doesn’t sound convinced, turns at the ding on her computer. She looks at her screen, frowns, before allowing a puzzled smile. “Want to see something weird?”

She cringes, thinking of her morning with Maggie, that body, non-body, the mulch that used to be a person. She can still smell the blood, even now. What kind of monster could do that? “Yeah,” she says brightly.

Sam turns the laptop so Kara can see. It’s a live feed to the Waterfront. There’s a camera focused on the Girl of Steel statue. A small crowd has gathered around it; some are bringing flowers, others are lighting candles. There’s no audio. Some of the men and women kneel before it, their fingers laced. Kara can’t swallow. “Are they…” She doesn’t want to say it. She doesn’t want to believe it. Doesn’t want confirmation.

“Praying to Supergirl? Yeah. They are.” They watch the video flicker, news vans moving in. Sam looks as panicked as Kara feels. “This day cannot possibly get any worse.” She returns the laptop to where it was. “Who are these whackjobs?”

Kara shakes her head, unable to say anything. Her fingers are numb. There are children in the hospital. Her fault. Someone was demolished in an alley and she didn’t save them. Sam and Lena are doing a press conference. What if she _can’t_ keep them safe? What if these Children of Rao keep escalating their reckless behavior? What if she can’t stop them? Why is she in this office, talking to Sam about adoptive families? She could be doing more. So much has already slipped past her fingers. Her heart pounds. The room tilts. Her head is floating away. She takes her phone out, nearly drops it. Just holds on to it. She finds Alex’s contact. _We need to talk._  

Her thumb hovers over the send key.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam stands, looks at her. Kara stares at her phone. Sam startled her. She sent the message. “You look…”

Kara stands, catches the chair before it falls. “Yes. I. Um— I have… I just remembered … It’s a little warm in here.”

Sam’s lips part. “Oh. Okay.”

“Yeah, I’ll—”

“Take your time—”

Kara nods, exits, moderates her breathing, takes the stairs down. She loses track of the flights. The stairs are angular, vertigo. She trails her hands along the walls. Touch. Breathe. Ground. Breathe in. Focus on the ground beneath her feet. Breathe out. She presses her palm to the wall, straggles to the outside. She finds a bench and sits, crushes her fingers in her hands, trying to steady them. She exhales in fragments. Squeezes her eyes shut. Opens her eyes. Sees Mon-El. Gets to her feet, her heart in her throat. He looks at her. Not Mon-El.

She curls her fingers, touches them to her lips. Bites her tongue. Swallows screams. Everything is piercing. Every sound. Every smell. Every quake in the ground. She stands in a sea of skeletons. Rubs her eyes beneath the glasses, until their muscle returns, their flesh. Until they’re people again. She’s still holding the phone. She doesn’t hear it. _Call from Alex incoming._

It rings and it rings. Her eyes are hot. She blinks them dry and brings the phone to her ear. 

 

 

 


	5. Blood

A/N: Bring your coffins because this chapter is so long you'll be on your deathbed by the time you're through.

 x

* * *

 

_If you’re going to hold a press conference in front of an angry mob, you need to tell them that Supergirl detonated the lead bomb. You have to remind them._ _**If** _ _this was the bomb— she’s the one who did it, not you._

_I can’t do that._

_**Why not?** _

_Because she trusted me. Because she’s_ _**good.** _ _Because she keeps us safe._

_So do you._

_They’re hurting, and they need someone to pin this on. If they want to hate someone, it should be me. For all we know, this_ _**was** _ _my device._

_No._

_Kara._

_**No.** _ _What about that cop? You saw it in the news. Supergirl isn’t perfect. Supergirl makes mistakes. She’s not infallible._

_No. But… whatever her reason, I trust her. I know you’re worried and that means so much to me._ She took her hands and squeezed them.  _But it’s okay._

The crowd is riled up, waving protest signs. There’s media everywhere. Kara keeps her arms crossed, fingers digging tightly into her skin. So many people, their faces distorted by rage and despair. Boos and ‘lock her up’ chants spike every few minutes. Kara thinks back to the night Maggie took Lena into custody. She stares at the empty podium, wishing she could will this into not happening. She searches the crowd, pale faces, pinched with anger, hands stuffed in pockets, others curled into fists.

Maggie moves over to her in her oversized jacket. She came. Kara swallows, breathing a little easier. “This is a shit show,” Maggie says. “I don’t like the energy here.” 

Kara feels that energy. It’s like standing on a taut string, ready to snap. “Is it just you?”

“No. Turns out it’s become common practice to send a few of us along anytime Lena Luthor’s holding an event. Can’t imagine why.”

So much for pull. She bows her head with an embarrassed smile. “So not because I asked.”

“They’re here because it’s policy. Believe it or not, not everyone is jumping to get in on this detail.  _I’m_ here because you asked.”

_Because of Alex?_ Kara can’t ask. She doesn’t want to insult or embarrass her. She and Maggie aren’t close. Maggie doesn’t care about her. It makes everything easier. It means less questions. Less concern.  _You aren’t a god._ They can be professional. “I appreciate it,” her voice is more brusque than she intended, the edges of Supergirl, rather than the curves of Kara Danvers. She barely interacts with Maggie as Kara. She barely interacts with anyone as Kara anymore.

“Did you tell your pal Lena Luthor that this was a stupid idea?”

“I didn’t use those exact words.”

“I wish she’d listened.”

“Me too.” She looks around. “I talked to Alex earlier.” For minutes. Longer, it felt, than she has in months. Alex only sees Supergirl these days. She hasn’t visited since Kara forced her to leave the key. Alex once gave her longing looks at the DEO. Now her jaw is harder. Alex is hurting, but Kara can’t be close to her right now. If she does, she’ll falter. Abandoning Mon-El was the latest reminder that she’ll never be normal. Never be human. She is not allowed to live for herself. Not for her family. Not for the people she loves. Only for ideals. “It was strange talking to her as…” 

“As…?”

_Kara Danvers._ Kara shakes her head. Maggie glances at her, pulling her hands back on her hips. She’s wearing a bulletproof vest. She was shot at L-Corp before. Kara wonders if she thinks about that. “I filled Alex in.”About Coville, anyway. She doesn’t know how long until the Children of Rao at the Supergirl statue end up on the air, their pictures everywhere online.     

“And?”

“And now she knows.” Some of it.  _Kara, if he knows about Rao’s teachings, he must have Kryptonian technology somewhere. He might begin escalating his tactics. And that’s if we’re lucky and there isn’t a Kryptonian we don’t know about somewhere. This is DEO business. You need to come in._ Kara sat on the bench by L-Corp.  _I can’t right now._ Alex waited on the other side of the line for words that didn’t come. 

Maggie purses her lips. It must bore Maggie to have conversations with her. Maggie looks around. There are more signs.  _Supers not Luthors! Baby Killer! Luthor Corp poisons children! “_ I’m going to take one last look around the perimeter. We’re going to have our boys over,” she points, “there, there, and there.” Her voice quiets. “I know you’re here, but I’ll be up front with a few other officers so these people know there’s a police presence.” Kara nods stiffly. “Stay vigilant and maybe everyone will get through this.” She looks at her until Kara meets her eyes. “You good?”

“Everyone will get through this,” Kara says. Maybe just to say it.

Maggie nods slowly and then she’s gone. Kara wonders how awful  _she_ looks. She should be here as Supergirl, but something tells her it’s the last thing Lena wants. With everything Morgan said about Supergirl being Lena’s hired muscle… She doesn’t want to create more issues for her. She can’t remember the last time anything felt this nerve wracking. She can’t remember the last time she felt anything.

She takes her phone out. She was able to get a small interview in with Lena before they separated, about stepping down from L-Corp. She sent the voice memo to Snapper and James. She did the bare minimum. Now she can focus on her actual responsabilities. There’s a text message from Lena.  _I’ll be out in a few minutes._

Kara quickly texts back.  _You’re going to be great._

Lena responds with a heart emoji.

Everything’s going to be okay.

X

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sam's asks. Lena, seated across from her in the car, looks up from her phone. “It sounds bad out there. All they're missing are pitchforks and torches.”

“It won't be the first time I'm greeted by this kind of crowd and I doubt it'll be the last. You don't have to go out there with me.”

“We're partners. We're in this together.” It wouldn’t look good for Sam to abandon her as she’s looking to step into her position. Lena looks back at her phone. “Have you got your speech figured out yet?”

“I've rewritten it five times.”

“We could still record a video and release it on the L-Corp website.”

Lena shakes her head. “I have to go before them, face-to-face. Recording a video at L-Corp would be easy. People are suffering. I can’t hide from this.”

Sam sighs inwardly. “Do you mind if I stretch my legs?” Not that she’s convinced it’s safe. Lena’s car is bulletproof, at least. Lena shakes her head. “As soon as this is done, we’ll plan our next moves.” It’ll be easier to do that, keep Lena occupied rather than let her spiral into this paranoia that she’s responsible for children being poisoned. Morgan Edge got in her head. “I’ll see you soon.” She steps out, looks around.

The crowd has swelled. Reporters focus their cameras on her, snap pictures. She moves away from the car, looking at the misspelled signs. The hunger of the crowd. She’s never felt anything like this before. Kara Danvers is some distance away, white as a sheet. She can smell her fear even from here.

Sam fights the irrational thought. She can’t  _smell_ people. She’s not an animal. Kara looks up, smiles nervously. Sam smiles back, keeps walking. The L-Corp security is weaved through the crowd. NCPD is here, too. She thinks about Ruby, about what she’d be feeling if someone had done this to her. She looks into the crowd of angry parents and she understands them. She’d want to kill Lena, too, if it was true. But it’s not. One of the police officers near the front smiles at her. Young, blonde, blue-eyed, and eager. Sam returns her smile and keeps going.

Why can’t she rid herself of the notion that Morgan Edge is behind this? His face is hazy in her mind. Smug and grinning.  _The truth is those children are going to die._ _ **That’s**_   _going to be her legacy._  Did he say that? When did he say it? Maybe she’s paranoid. Maybe it’s a tumor squeezing her brain. Is she blindly loyal to Lena, or does she not want to consider what it could mean for her career if it’s true? How the hell is she going to tell Ruby she’s going to be stuck with Ms. Queller on a semi-regular basis for the next little while? Ruby’s already been pouting at how little she sees Sam as it is.

Her eyes sweep back over the crowd. Sound has vanished. They all face her, smiling. She looks behind her but there’s no one there. When she looks back, they’ve returned to their disconnected protest chants. She walks to the stage, catches herself before shes slams into Maggie Sawyer. Kara must have pull after all.

“Detective Sawyer.” 

Maggie seems to grimace. “Ms. Arias. I wasn’t aware you were going to be at this shindig.”

Sam smiles at the NCPD jacket she’s swimming in. “This is the second time we’ve met under less than ideal circumstances. Think we’ll ever run into each other when disaster isn’t imminent?”

“In National City? I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

“This is nuts.”

Maggie nods. “I spoke to L-Corp’s people.” Maggie points them out to Sam. More than she thought. “There are some plain clothes officers here, but there will be a few in blue near the stage. That said, you sense anything weird, you trust your gut instinct and haul ass.”

“If something goes wrong, Supergirl will be here, won’t she? She’s always around for these Lena things.” Every time. She looked it up in the paper after they had their girls night and Lena mentioned Supergirl rescuing her. Morgan Edge may be a scumbag, but she almost can’t fault him for saying Supergirl is Lena’s hired muscle.

“I can’t predict where Supergirl will be. I— I assume your daughter is okay?”

“Ruby? Yeah. Thanks for asking. I think if I had more time to think about this I’d be a nervous wreck. I told Ruby to call me the second she felt even a little off.”

“But for now there appears to be nothing to worry about. That’s good news, Ms. Arias.”

“Sam is fine.” She thought they were on a first name basis. 

“As is Maggie. But you led with Detective Sawyer. I wasn’t sure if…” Maggie looks uncertain for the first time since they met. “If I was over the line the night we all met for pizza. I’m embarrassed.” Her cheeks darken as evidence. “I should have offered you a ride, or called a cab. Better than making you do the roadside olympics before letting you get in your car.” Sam lifts her eyebrows. “I’m a cop— I know what an OUI could do for your career, or even Ruby’s soccer games and— I know how you pride yourself on giving her everything. It was an overreaction on my part. You passed that test with flying colors. Intoxilyzer turned out clean…” she furrows her eyebrows, “your can really hold your liquor. Either way, I apologize.”

Sam smiles, ignoring the chill coming over her. She doesn’t know what Maggie’s talking about. She searches her memory. Thinks back to that night. Grabbing pizza from the pizza pan while Lena was outside with Kara. Telling Maggie a little about what she does at L-Corp. Maggie told her funny cop stories. The time a horse chased her down an apartment stairwell. Lena walking back in, flustered, cash in her hand.  _Where’s Kara?_ Maggie asked. Sam searches. It stops there. There’s no surface to scratch. There’s just an abyss of nothingness. Sam breathes out. “No worries.”

“You had a good sense of humor about it, and I appreciate that.”

Sam’s phone buzzes in her pocket. “Sorry, I— it’s Luke’s parents. He’s a friend of Ruby’s, in the hospital—” she picks up the phone. Too much noise. She puts a hand over her ear. Screaming. Shouting. An air machine. Beeping. An IV drip. Gurneys rolling down a hallway. Coma. Luke’s in a coma. _Lock her up!_ Luke’s sister is still in school. Can she pick her up aft  _lock her up!_ School. Sobbing. Brain failure.  _Shutting down._ The words have been put through a grinder. Words aren’t words. They’re formless. Meaningless. She closes her eyes.

“Sam?”

Sam looks at Maggie. A thunderous jeering erupts. Lena’s out of the car. Camera newspeople follow after her as she walks towards the stage. Lena looks to the audience, finds Kara who gives Lena a somber thumbs up. Kara looks like she’s going to throw up. Sam feels like she’s going to throw up. Lena. Sam thinks she says her name. Hasn’t said her name. Tries to touch her hand to warn her, but Lena brushes past her to the podium. “I’ll call you back,” she thinks she says into the phone.

Sam turns away from Maggie, takes the short stairs up to join Lena by the podium. The crowd is quiet. Still. Distorted. They are a sea of shadows. They don’t even look human. Lena’s hands are white on the podium. She holds to it as if it were a lifeline. 

“Good afternoon. I’m Lena Luthor.” The chanting eventually quiets. Lena waits. “I know a lot of you here are angry,” her fingers stroke the podium. Her voice rings out clear and emotionless. “I hear you. I would be, myself, if I felt someone had poisoned my children. My thoughts go out to everyone who is afflicted. I heard what Morgan Edge told you this morning. And I wish I was up here to say something different, but the truth is I don’t know if my device hurt children. And until I do, I realize that none of you can have faith in me.”

Sam settles her hands on her hips. Kara remains in the crowd, arms crossed, looking around nervously. She looks so frail. Maggie speaks quietly into the radio at her shoulder. The anger in the crowd is starting to boil. Sam clenches her jaw. Lena Luthor has a reputation for being cold and severe and here she stands, voice shaking, before the very the people who would sooner guillotine her than accept her condolences.  

There’s a click. So loud as if it were blasted against her ear drum. She doesn’t recognize the sound, like a lock.

Lena raises her voice. “Your faith is something I have worked harder than you may realize to keep, and the fact that I might have lost it is…” she fumbles for the word, looks down at her notecards. “Difficult.” There’s a long silence. She runs her tongue over her lower lip. “And so,” she looks back at the crowd, “until the investigation into the poisonings is concluded, I will be stepping down from L-Corp.” Lena looks at Sam, and Sam wonders if she plans to tell the crowd that she’ll be stepping in for Lena in the meantime. They hadn’t discussed that piece. Her stomach churns. Lena returns her gaze to the crowd. “I will now take questions—” Hands shoot up. Kara’s isn’t one of them. Lena points to a reporter— someone from MSNBC, judging by the tag. “Yes, go ahead.”

“Ms. Luthor,” she begins, “children are filling emergency rooms all over National City. If it turns out that your lead detonation device is in fact responsible for— the now confirmed  _two_ deaths of National City’s youth, will you be stepping down from L-Corp indefinitely? Are you concerned that a class action lawsuit could effectively tank L-Corp?”

Two children dead. There are gasps and wails from the crowd. The phone is buzzing in her pocket again. Sam takes it out and sees several missed calls from Luke’s parents. Looks to Lena who has gone white. She hears a click. A blast.

Sam takes a step, shoves Lena. Gunshots. She watches the young, blonde police officer’s head cracks open like a smashed watermelon in front of her. Ruby’s showed her YouTube videos like this. Usually it’s a water balloon bursting in slow motion. Not blood, bone, gunk. The police officer crashes to the ground, lifeless. Maggie stumbles forward, falling to her knees. Shouts as people disperse, running in all directions. NCPD and L-Corp security sweeps in.

Sam’s on top of Lena. Is still on top of Lena when Kara runs up the stage, slipping her hand into her own jacket pocket. It clinks, as if she’s thrown change in there. Kara sinks to her knees beside them, looks at Sam. Speaks. Takes her arm. Says something else. Her face full of concern. Sam doesn’t hear her. She moves away from Lena in a daze. Her ears are ringing.

There’s a woman in the crowd that’s been tackled by the police and L-Corp security, sobbing for her child. Sam looks from her, to Lena, to the blonde police officer before the stage, blonde hair gone red with blood. There are patches of hair. Chunks of brain. Her blue eye is lifeless. Sam covers her mouth, waits for the urge to vomit to pass. Closes her eyes. Hears ragged breath. 

Maggie holding on to the corner of the stage, heaving for air. Sam jumps down to her. Sees a giant hole in the back of her jacket. Goes unsteady. “Hey, hey.” She isn’t sure she’s speaking. Isn’t sure Maggie can hear her.

“I’m fine,” Maggie says, words fractured. 

“You’ve been shot—” Sam says. Maggie shakes her head. Sam pulls at the oversized jacket she’s wearing until she’s pulled it free. Sees the bullet lodged in the bulletproof vest.

“There must be a second shooter,” Maggie wheezes, looks to the fallen officer. “Jesus. Get to cover,” she fires off instructions into her radio, takes out her service arm, ignores Kara and Lena, moves back past the stage.

Sam remains, foot pointed to the remains of the police officer’s head. The blood touches her boot. She thinks she’s screaming but she’s silent and motionless.

 

X

Sam’s barely stumbled out of the car when she retches. She coughs, trying to hold it in and throws up again, mostly a watery bile. She hears the tick of the emergency lights of the car. Footsteps coming closer. She turns away from the vomit, listening to cars whooshing by, trying to ignore the disgusting, acidic burn of her throat. Maggie offers her a bottle of water and a few napkins.

“Do you need another minute?” Maggie asks. 

Sam rinses her mouth, wipes her forehead, her mouth. Shakes her head. She feels a little more human now. “I’m good.”

Maggie looks at her a moment longer. Nods. They get back into the car, Sam lifting Maggie’s NCPD jacket from the seat and draping it over her own lap.  Maggie drives. Sam looks around the police cruiser. It’s meticulous. Cool air blasts from the AC.  

“I have something for you,” Maggie says, “but let's skip the jokes.” Sam lifts her eyebrows. Maggie slides an empty Dunkin' Donuts bag to her. Sam takes it, puzzled. “In case we can't pull over next time.”

“For me? You shouldn’t have.” Sam anticipates if she has to use it it’ll soak right through. “You don't look like you eat donuts every day. Do you ever flash your emergency lights to skip through the drive through?” Maggie smiles in response, eyes on the road. “What a day.”

“Yeah.”

“I can't believe I threw up like that. I thought I was tough.”

“You are tough.” 

“I've never seen anything like that before. You watch horror movies and think you're desensitized, but seeing it in person. Smelling it. Jesus. I can't stop shaking.” She rubs her fingers, trying to warm them. Maggie turns the heat on. “How do you do it?”

“I came from Gotham. It’s a hard city. Cops get thrown to the wolves there. It gets easier, I guess, but it comes out in other ways. The weird things that no one else blinks at will make you break out into a cold sweat.”

She’s heard rumors about Gotham. At least National City doesn’t have that kind of violence. “Is today the worst thing you've seen?”

Maggie squeezes the wheel of the car, doesn’t look at her. “No.”

“I can't imagine.” She watches the passing scenery. Palm trees. Lights glinting off cars. She hopes Lena’s okay. The police and media kept her longer. Sam needed to get to Ruby.  _Don’t wait for me. Go,_ Lena said. “I wanted to be a police officer when I was younger.”

“Yeah? What changed?” She smiles over at her. “The pay is crap, if you're wondering.” 

“I had Ruby. Being a cop always seemed like a fun adventure. When I was younger, I mean. Righting wrongs. Stopping criminals. Justice. What's not to like?”

“There must have been something.”

“I know officer deaths are exaggerated but… I didn’t want to risk it. It’s dangerous work. I mean… you must have thought about it. The idea of leaving your potential child alone.”

Maggie breathes. Exhales. “Yeah.”

“When I had Ruby— everything was a mess. I was a fucking kid. I was alone. No friends. No Patricia. She's never met her.”

“Have you seen Patricia since you left?”

“No. She wanted me to abort Ruby and I couldn’t forgive that. I never told Ruby, whenever she’s asked about grandma. I'm not pro-life or anything, but Ruby was mine, and I wanted to take care of her. “

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“All kids want a family. She doesn’t complain  _too_ much, but I know it’s hard for her to have just me. Especially during those crap school events.”

“I thought you loved those crap school events,” she smiles. “Did you ever think about adoption?”

“Not seriously. I never dreamed of children or anything.” So much of her childhood is fuzzy. “But it happened and. You do what you can with what life throws at you. It didn't help that I was adopted and my relationship with Patricia was... difficult, at best. I'm not sure she ever loved me. But she took care of me.”

“That goes a long way.”

“Yeah.” She leans into the window. A minute passes. “I could have died today. I could have died at the Waterfront. I'm not meant for this world. I didn't think working for Lena would put me in these kinds of situations.” 

“You’re worried.”

“I don't want to leave Ruby alone. The first time I met Supergirl— I guess the only time I met Supergirl, she told me to take care of Ruby. I've thought of that every day. Every night, when I'm not with her. I feel like I'm letting her down. Supergirl down. I like my job. The actual job, not the CEO thing. I love the money. I want Ruby to have... everything.” 

“You're a good mom.”

“I don’t know. I’ve pulled her from schools, dragged her all over. National City doesn't feel safe. We have Supergirl. We have a good police force. How can things like this still happen? It makes me sick thinking about it. And now I have to worry about her getting lead poisoning? Children are dying?” Her eyes water. “How do I explain to her that she can’t believe what  _everyone_ is saying? When Lena herself refuses to outright refute it.” She clenches her fingers. “I'm so worried about her. Both of them. But especially Ruby.” She looks at the bumper to bumper traffic, her finger tracing over the bullet hole of the NCPD jacket.

“Do you want to call her?” 

“If I call her now I'll start bawling. Then she'll start bawling. She's so sensitive. Not like me at all.” Maggie smiles. “What's funny?”

“Nothing's funny. It's just... you're on the verge of tears. Being sensitive isn't bad.”

“This seems like the kind of thing a tough-as-nails cop would make fun of me for.”

Another wry smile. “I have to wait until your back is turned.” Sam laughs and feels guilty about it. “I know plenty of tough women who cry. Life has been putting you through the wringer. Most people would fall apart. Don't be so hard on yourself. I mean, that's two terrorist events you've walked away from unscathed. That's bad ass.”

Sam sniffles, nods, holding the Dunkin' Donuts bag tighter. “Yes, I'm real bad ass. Driven to my daughter's school by a detective who's taken pity on me and given me a barf bag. At least I didn't have to do a breathalyzer to get in.” Maggie laughs. “I hope this isn't too much of a detour for you.

“It's on the way to the station.”

“No, it's not. Thank you. I'm... so grateful.”

“What can I say? I'm a sucker for a woman trying to be a good mom.”

“What about you? Have you spoken to your parents since they kicked you out?”

Maggie shakes her head. “No. I might as well not exist to them,” she cranes her head, looks past the windshield and pulls over. Ruby’s school. “As promised.” There are school buses lining the entrance, along with cars. Sam frowns. “Think it’s another crap school event?”

Sam undoes her seatbelt. “I’m not sure.” She looks out. Parents are gathered, arms around their children’s shoulders, leading them past the school entrance. Sam looks back at Maggie. “I hate to ask.”

“Go. I’ll hang out just in case.”

Sam nods, exits the car, wades through throngs of parents, entering into the school building. More parents wandering the halls with their children. Everything’s too loud here. Lockers slamming, voices like drills burrowing into her skull. Her legs are shaky. The walls are transparent. Why are the walls transparent? Why is everything so loud? She can’t hear herself think. She keeps moving down the hall, upright. Everyone looks small and distorted. Teachers bow to her. Parents lace their hands in reverence. What the fuck is happening? The angles in this hallway are wrong. She’s still holding on to the Dunkin’ Donuts bag. Where’s Ruby? Who’s Ruby? She follows a heartbeat. 

“Hey, good to meet you,” Maggie shakes Ruby’s hand. “Your mom has been bragging about you since the moment I met her.”

“You’re that cop from before,” Ruby says, clutching her backpack. Maggie nods in the affirmative, arms crossed leaning into the cruiser and talking to Ruby. Eventually she provokes a shy smile from her. Sam looks around. The buses are still there, some departing. Fresh air. Where’s her Dunkin’ Donuts bag? How is she out here? How is Ruby here? She’s going to throw up. “Mom?” Ruby takes her hand. “Are you okay?” Sam looks at her, feels sweat dripping down the back of her neck. “Your hand is freezing.”

“I’m fine, sweetie. I uh— we need to get you home. Or to Ms. Queller—” No, she needs to call Luke’s parents. “Is— June— I’m supposed to get to June.”

“Her parents already came. Is Luke okay?” 

Sam stares at her. Maggie looks between the two of them. “So Ruby mentioned dropping her off at a friend’s get together?” Maggie looks at Sam. “Is that still a thing?”

“Detective Sawyer has things to do— we’ll— I’ll drop you off, but I’ll need to call an Uber—”

“You said she could do it. You never remember anything. Why are your clothes ripped?” She touches the sleeve of Sam’s jacket.

Sam feels a flash of anger. Disrespectful child. She grips the handle of Ruby’s backpack.

“Hey, it’s cool,” Maggie says. “What’s another small detour?” She meets Sam’s eyes. “Okay?” Ruby looks up at her, flushed and confused.

“Yeah. Yes. Of course.”

“Front or back?” Maggie asks Ruby. “Mom has to sit in the back if you sit up front, but you could look like a real tough kid if you sit in the back.”

“Front, I guess.”

“Such enthusiasm,” she opens the front door, Ruby gets in. “All right, you in?” 

Ruby nods. “Can I play with the police radio?”

“Absolutely not.” Maggie shuts the door. She looks up at Sam. “You know most parents want one of those grated dividers.” Sam says nothing. “You worried these bored parents will think I’m taking you into custody?” Sam stares at her. Maggie grimaces. “Poorly timed joke. What’s wrong? You look…” Sam waits. “Tired.”

“Sorry. The joke was funny. I’m—” she shivers, looks at her sleeve. There is a hole. Where did that come from? Is it from when she fell during the press conference? Maggie waits. Sam looks away from the hole to Maggie. “I’m, uh— a little scattered.” 

“Yeah, it’s one of those days,” she nods. “Let’s get going.”

Sam gets into the backseat. “Put your seatbelt on,” she tells Ruby. Puts her own on. Sam looks at her through the mesh, her fingers slipping through, touching Ruby’s.

X

There are four bullets in Kara’s jacket pocket. She touches them and they clink. Four bullets. Four bullets that didn’t make their way to Lena or Sam. One bullet she missed, lodged into the spine of Maggie’s bulletproof vest. If she hadn’t been wearing that vest, she’d be paralyzed or dead. Maggie who came because Kara asked her to. The last bullet the police have to track down. It went in and then out. Came and went, ending a life.

Kara tried to give Maggie the bullets.  _What am I supposed to do with this? Supergirl didn’t catch these. You did. Hold on to them for now._

Kara sits at her work computer, scrolls through the headlines.  _Has Supergirl Abandoned Lena Luthor?_ They write that Supergirl wasn’t there to provide support. She’s become part of the story. She reads through the comments. People are happy that Supergirl has given up on Lena. But why wasn’t she there to save that cop? Another headline:  _Girl of Steel’s Increasingly Troubled Relationship With the NCPD._ She clicks on the video attached, Supergirl dropping the cop on the NCPD steps. A quote from a police officer she doesn’t know.  _It doesn’t feel like Supergirl’s there for us anymore._ More comments.

_Do you think she’s going crazy again?_

_Maxwell Lord was right. We can’t trust her. An alien will never really care about us._  

_Blue Lives Matter!!!!!111!_

_Like all cops are innocent. Do you even watch the news?_

_Supergirl’s hot._

_Why wasn’t Supergirl there?_

_Lena Luther is an evil bitch. Sorry she’s not dead._

_Did anyone consider the shooter thought the cop had a phone? Just sayin’ Lol_

_I never thought Supergirl should work with the popo imo_

_Maybe the shooter won’t miss next time._

_Crocodile tears. She killed children. Someone shave her head and throw her in jail with her crazy brother._

_Superman’s better._

_That police officer wasn’t chosen. That’s why She didn’t save her._

Kara flags the comments about Lena as abuse. Stares at the computer. She hopes Lena hasn’t seen them. She hopes Lena never reads them. She can still hear the gunshots. 

Lena looked so small on the stage floor.  _Lena. Lena!_ She wouldn’t look at her. Kara touched her arms gingerly, pulled them back to see her eyes squeezed shut. Kara looked past to where Maggie was headed, scanned the area over the rims of her glasses. Saw no danger. Focused on Lena again. She hadn’t been shot. Kara released the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.  _Hey. Hey. I’m here. You’re going to be okay._ Lena looked at her. Squinted as if the light hurt her eyes. As if she was sorry to have seen another day.

Kara touches the bullets. Clink, clink, clink. There was so much blood. So much guck. How’s Sam? Her eyes were like glass. She’s never thought of brown eyes that way. Kara found Sam walking away from a paramedic.

_Are you okay?_ Kara asked.

Sam looked at her incredulously.  _No, I’m not_ _ **okay.**_ _Some crazy person just tried to kill Lena. Could have killed_ _ **me.**_ _I just saw a cop’s head blown off. Maggie was shot._ _ **None**_ _of this is okay. Where the hell was Supergirl?_ Kara shifted her weight.  _Does she blame Lena, too? She just decided to skip this press conference? Well, guess what. Someone died. How the hell are you so calm?_

Kara hadn’t known what to say. Sam’s phone rang and she took it, walked away from her. She can’t think of Sam now. She switches windows to the Microsoft Word document with the blinking cursor.

_Lena Luthor stepped down today as CEO of L-Corp_

She stares at the sentence, rearranging it several times, but no further than she was an hour ago when she first opened the document. Another twenty minutes pass.

_L-Corp CEO Lena Luthor stepped down today_

She deletes the sentence and puts her head in her hands. Her thoughts drift to earlier. Lena talking to the police, hands tracing her own sides, straightening the jacket she wore, holding to the hem. She answered questions while the media pointed their cameras at her, painting her in glaring light. Lena’s skin gleamed with perspiration. 

Supergirl doesn’t sweat unless she’s near kryptonite. Kara Danvers doesn’t sweat at all. She isn’t sure which her is more alien. It’s deceptive. It implies that Kara Danvers is stronger. 

A stack of photos land on her desk. Kara lifts her head, adjusts her glasses. James stands tall. His shirts keep getting tighter, making it impossible to hide his physique. Maybe he’s proud of it. He should be. He worked for it. It wasn’t just handed to him like it was to her. She wonders if his shirts would be as tight as they are if he had her physical strength.

“Cat sent me to get those. She wanted proof it wasn’t what it seemed.”

Kara sits up straighter, looks through the photographs. They’re at the Waterfront with the Girl of Steel statue. Men and women are crowded around it. She sees their faces and recognizes them. Car accident, car accident, fire, death by suicide attempt, jumper. She can’t get her mouth to unstick. “Are you going to print these?”

“You knew about this.”

“Yes.” She sets the photos back down. “My emergency from the other day.” She tells him about Coville and the Children of Rao. It’s easier to tell him things when they’re work related. When it’s about Supergirl. She leaves out Maxwell Lord.

“I guess it was only a matter of time,” he says. 

She looks at him. “What do you mean? What does  _that_ mean?”

He shuts the door to the office and takes a seat across from her. “I know you know how I met Clark. But did he ever tell you how I met Superman?” She shakes her head, unsure of where he’s going with this. “So one day, I’m in Metropolis. I climb up this bridge spire to get this angle on the tanker fire.” His eyes fog, thinking. “It was beautiful. But there was a lot of smoke in the air. I got light-headed. And I lost my footing. And I fell.” Kara rubs her arms, trying to force the goosebumps down. “And I knew for sure that I was going to die. So I just prayed. I prayed to anything, to anyone who was listening… to save me. And then out of this smoke came this hand, and grasped mine. And that was the first time Superman saved me. Same way you did Coville.”

She shakes her head again. “That’s… a coincidence. Luck. That’s… because he knew you. Heard you. These other people… they’re… blind. They’re not seeing clearly.”

“And how many people have you saved? Strangers? Those who didn’t know your name, didn’t believe in you until you came to them?” She furrows her eyebrows. “What makes somebody blind just because they believe?”

“It’s different.”

“But  _how_ , Kara? How is it different? I’ve seen you, in this very newsroom, defending all faiths. Not just here. On the streets. Religion is a means of hope, and faith… a guide on how to live a purposeful life. The people of National City follow your example. You’ve moved them to compassion, to courage, to hope. The power you have is the power of legends. Gods. The things you do, they’ve only read about in their books of faith. You have literally saved people. Not just spiritually. To them you  _are_  a miracle.”

“My biology absorbs radiation at a different rate than humans.” Her heart pounds. James can’t say this. Believe this. If he can say it, believe it. What of the others that don’t know of her failures, and disappointments? What will they expect from her? It makes every decision she makes a judgment. “What about that is miraculous?”

“In this life, prayer normally doesn’t work. Nobody shows up. But Clark did. And you do. When things are bad— when I’m scared.” He looks at her. “I may have gone to church every Sunday, Kara— but now— when I need saving, and I know I can’t do it on my own? What I’m hoping for is you.”

“No.” She shakes her head. Thinks of Mon-El. “No.”

“Kara, you’re something that we can see, something that we can touch. You restore people’s faith in this world. You see the best in us. The things we cannot see. Hope to go on. You offer redemption to those who have lost their way.” Coville’s words ring in her ears.  _Many of us stay lost. Spiritually lost. We need guidance to find our way back home._ She thinks back to that convenience store robbery. Her arm broken and bleeding. He had a gun. She shook. “How are you not a miracle?”

Why does she rebel against this? Isn’t this how she’s lived her life the past year? Isn’t this what she’s told everyone? She is not a human. But she is not a god. To disappoint nameless strangers is one thing. To have those who know her, rely on her for their lives. It’s hard to breathe. She rubs her eyes beneath the glasses, rubs her lips. She doesn’t know how to argue. She doesn’t want to remind him that he thought too little of Supergirl, too much of Kara. She can’t argue for Kara. She told Lena once that she would always protect her. What makes it any different?  _She doesn’t know you’re Supergirl._ “This kind of talk isn’t okay.”

He taps the pictures. “It looks like those conversations are already happening. And maybe these people are the outliers. Maybe they’re a cult. But I guarantee, there are people out there, who don’t think of Supergirl as an alien. They look to her as divine. As their savior. And honestly… I can’t really blame them.”

She stands. “I’m going to work on that article from home, if that’s okay.”

He sighs, crosses his arms, remains seated. “Yeah, that should be fine. Snapper knows you had a rough day.” She nods absently. “How’s Lena holding up?”

“I don’t want to talk about Lena right now,” she says, sounding too curt. She doesn’t want to get into an argument about her. She looks at the pictures. “What are you going to do with those?”

“I’m going to show them to Cat and Snapper. They’ll decide what happens.”

She tightens her jaw. “Can’t you… like, lose them?”

His eyes soften. Her face goes hot. “If these people are the way that you say they are? They’re not going anywhere unless something major happens.”

“Right. I have to go.”

She exits. Takes the bus to L-Corp. She nods at security, using the key card to get past every door. She takes the stairs up, one at a time, exits onto her floor. She stops at Lena’s office. It’s large and lifeless without her. She sighs, going to the desk. There are files still open on the computer. But it has a full battery. It should last. She closes the laptop, slips it into her messenger bag. She’s winding the cord in her hands when the door opens. Sam. Kara straightens. “Lena knows I’m here,” Kara says.

Night has fallen. Sam should look ragged but she doesn’t. Kara thinks she’s stylish. Her suits are tailored. Always a good fit. She looks good in black and greys. She gets to wear her hair loose.  

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” Sam says. “I was in my office and saw you exit the stairwell.” Kara nods, doesn’t tell her no one is capable of sneaking up on her. She finishes rolling up the cord, wraps a velcro tie around it and slips it into her bag. “Actually, I’m glad I ran into you.” Kara glances at her, studying the files on the desk, picking them up one at a time and slipping them into her bag. She doesn’t know what to grab so she’ll grab what was out. “I wanted to tell you that… I’m really sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, it’s not okay. You were there for both of us all day and… I bit your head off when you checked on me.” Sam’s fingers shake. She takes a breath. “I’m not really used to all this excitement.”

Kara smiles wanly. “Are you sure ‘excitement’ is the right word?”

“‘Terror’ is probably better.”

Kara slides another file into her bag. “I’m sorry you had to see that. You shouldn’t have seen any of that.”

“If you could not tell Supergirl about what I said…”

“My lips are sealed.” She picks up the computer mouse. “I thought you would be home with Ruby.”

“A bunch of the kids are having a sleepover. I think all the parents are freaked out, and they want to give their kids this one night. Names are going to start being released soon.” She takes another breath, blinks her eyes. “Luke didn’t make it.” Kara stills. “Ruby doesn’t know yet.”

“Does Lena?” When the reporter asked during the press conference, is that who they were referencing? Are there more?

“Yeah. I told her about half an hour ago.” 

Her legs are unsteady. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why? You didn’t set that bomb off.  _If_ it was that bomb. I should be home, but Ruby’s not home. I can’t let all this stuff get to me, so I’m diving into work. It’d be a cliche if I didn’t have so much of it.” She looks around. “Lena told me to move in here, but,” she shakes her head. “It’s not right. God, I know we talked just a few hours ago but it feels like years. You weren’t kidding when you said that press conference might get out of hand.”

“I wish I’d been wrong.” She stops, holding the files atop the desk. “I know tempers are running high, and people are saying a lot of awful things about...everything. Are you doing okay?”

“It’s a lot. Haven’t fully processed everything,” she crosses her arms, pulls into herself, looks down at the floor and back at her. “This is all in its infancy stages. I’m not ready to give up on Lena. Not until we have all the facts.”

“Lena’s lucky to have you.”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

Kara slips the messenger bag over her shoulder, gripping the strap anxiously. “I’m sorry today was so hard.” She moves closer, her other hand in her pocket, trailing her finger over the bullets. Sam looks at her. At her pocket. Kara stops. Rolling her fingers closed, rubbing them, thinking of ash. She should offer Sam her number. Support. Give her a hug. Supergirl could, but Kara Danvers doesn’t have it in her. “I know it might not seem like it, but National City is better than this.”

Sam smiles wryly. “I’m starting to wonder whether that’s actually true. Do you have everything?” Kara nods. She holds the door open. Kara walks out. “Night, Kara.”

“Goodnight, Sam.”

Sam pushes the elevator button for her. Kara grips the messenger bag strap tighter. She wanted to take the stairs. She wanted to take the balcony.

“Is Lena okay?” Sam asks. 

Kara licks her lips, eyes narrowing. She steps into the elevator. “Lena is safe.”

X

Kara stares at the door, resisting the urge to lower her glasses and look through. She holds the bag of Chinese food to her. She listens.

_We are now getting reports of multiple deaths across National City’s hospitals. So far, it appears as if only children and the elderly have been affected. Lena Luthor stepped down as CEO this afternoon and a woman who made an attempt on her life has been taken into custody. A police officer died at that press conference and many are wondering_ Where was Supergirl?

Kara knocks. There’s no response. She reluctantly gets the keys out of her bag, slips the key into the door. Her fingers shake. This was an awful idea. She steps into her apartment. Lena is on the couch, dressed as she was during the press conference. There’s a bottle of wine beside her on the floor, a glass of wine in hand. The TV’s loud. Kara shuts the door.

“Hey,” Kara says, sensing her own timidity. She sets the bag of food down and steps out of her shoes, removes her jacket. She realizes the bullets are still in the pocket. Freezes momentarily. These are the things she’ll have to think about constantly moving forward. Lena looks at her, eyes flat. “I brought your computer and files. I wasn’t sure what you needed, so I grabbed a little of everything.  _And_ I brought dinner. You’re up for Chinese, right?”

Kara sets the messenger bag with Lena’s work items on the dining room table and takes the bag of food to the kitchen island. Lena doesn’t move. Kara gets out plates and glasses. 

_We’re waiting outside Edge Global, where Morgan Edge is expected to make a statement regarding the deaths that have followed the lead poisoning, seemingly brought on by the bomb Lena Luthor used to ward off the Daxamite invasion—_

Kara joins her by the couch, finds the remote and turns the television off.

“Don’t,” Lena says.

Kara kneels in front of Lena. Her face is rosy, eyes shadowed. Kara almost touches her. The bottle of wine is nearly empty. Alex brought it over months ago. “You should get comfortable.”

“I shouldn’t be here.” Her eyes shine. “I’m putting you in danger. I’m jeopardizing your career.”

“You’re not doing any of those things.” She touches the couch by Lena’s thigh. Gets to her feet and moves to her bedroom area. She pulls out a pair of sweatpants, a plain white tee, and a National City University sweatshirt. Holds them to her, swallowing stiffly before returning to her. “Here you go.”

Lena looks up at her blearily. She’s never seen Lena drunk. Tipsy. Lightly buzzed. Never drunk. “Why are you doing this?”

“Put this on. You’ll feel better.” She won’t ask her if she can stand. Moments pass. Lena stands. Kara gently gives her the garments. Lena takes them and makes her way down to the bathroom. Kara stands unmoving before returning to the kitchen. She’s heaping fried rice onto one of the plates before she hears a bang, clutter, ‘ _oh, damn it_!’.

Kara goes to the bathroom door, cheeks flushed. “Is everything okay?” Lena doesn’t answer. “Lena.” She touches her glasses, squeezes her eyes shut. 

“I’m fine,” she sounds weary. “I just—… slipped.”

“Can I come in?” Lena doesn’t answer. “I’m going to count to ten and if I don’t hear from you—”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She opens the bathroom door. She’s wearing the sweatpants and t-shirt. Her hair is loose and messy. Kara’s shampoo and body wash bottles have rolled onto the middle of the bathtub. Her face is freshly scrubbed. She looks younger. “Sorry for the…” she gestures vaguely at the tub. Kara shakes her head. Lena picks up the sweatshirt, starts to slip it on, gets stuck. 

Kara watches, a tangle of nerves. Looks away. Her gaze lands on the mirror. Lena pulls the sweatshirt off and starts again, lifting her shirt in the process. Kara sees a flash of her back. Her shoulder and back are bruised. How did that happen? Did she fall when she wasn’t here?  It almost looks like a handprint.

Lena pulls the shirt and sweatshirt back down. “That’s my biggest accomplishment of the day.” 

Lena walks out past her, leaving her clothes strewn on the floor. Kara picks them up. Folds them. Sets them by the washing machine before following after. Lena stands aimlessly in the middle of the apartment. “Have a seat,” Kara nods at the couch. “I’ll bring everything over.”

Lena sits, maybe grateful for direction. Kara finishes scooping food and dumplings onto plates. She returns to the living room, scoots the coffee table closer to the couch, brings a pitcher of water and glasses. “Why are you doing this?” Lena asks again.

Kara looks at her a while. “Lena. Come on.”

“No. I mean it. Why? Why are you bothering?”

Kara sits next to her. “Because you’re my friend. This isn’t over.” Lena scoffs. Picks up the wine bottle and pours the remainder into the wine glass. She drinks, as if to wash Kara’s words away. “You can’t give up. You are one of the strongest women I know. Why aren’t you fighting this?”

“Because I did it. Kara, I did it. You’ve seen the reports.” She rubs her eyes. “And Morgan Edge— that bastard— he’s right. He said—” she nearly slurs. “That I wanted so badly to be a hero— that I … did this thing. My Luthor tech. Lex’s Luthor tech. That’s always going to be my legacy. I’ll never escape it.”

“That’s not true. You already have.”

“Oh, come on, Kara.” The anger fades just as quickly. She rests an elbow on her knee, plants her face on her chin, looking at her. The wine glass hangs perilously in her other hand. “You have to know better than that.” Kara breathes slowly. “You know, all I ever wanted to be was good. My whole life I was a pariah. First, because I was rich, and because of my brother. I’d gotten used to it. Being weird. Being alone. Having everything, having nothing. There was Jack, but I lost him, too. Just like I lose everything.”

“You haven’t lost me. You won’t lose me,” Kara says. Lena smiles, looks away. Drinks. Does Lena believe her? Should she believe her? She hasn’t been available to her like she should have been. 

“When I was able to give that device to Supergirl…I thought— finally, I can help, repay her for all the kindness she’s given me. I did, just… just one thing,” she lifts a finger, “one thing that was good. And I never told you— and I never told Supergirl…,” her voice swings, soft and pained, “how I carried that with me. This… seed of… goodness. Of possibility. I thought— I’d planted this… promise. For myself, for all of National City, for the betterment of all people. And I thought I would continue that. It wasn’t all good. I felt guilty. I thought— ‘I killed him. I killed Mon-El. I hurt Kara. She must hate me. That’s why she doesn’t see me anymore, doesn’t call’. And the thought of that…” she flexes her jaw, lowers her face. Kara can’t speak. “But on better days, I thought that one day people would stop whispering my name. They wouldn’t look away. Wouldn’t cross the street. I’d exist outside of those awful websites that praise me because they think I’m like my brother or mother. One day, I won’t be praised for the xenophobe they hope I’ll be. I was this close.” She wipes her eyes. “And now I’m the monster that poisons children. I’ve killed children.” She laughs. Kara struggles to keep her eyes clear. “Even Lex Luthor never did that.”

“Lena. Anyone who knows you know that you would never…”

“Oh. Who knows. Maybe I’m the same.” She sniffles, smiles at her again, radiant, somehow, amidst the ruin. “I’ve feared it. Had nightmares about it. That something would happen to me. That I would end up just like my family. And now people are sick. They’re dead. It’s my fault. I took Ruby’s friend. And now Sam’s doing my job—  _because_ I kill children.” Another laugh. This time her hand covers her face.

“There’s still a chance it wasn’t you. We don’t know everything. I know how easy it is to fall into despair… but… you can’t lose hope.”

Lena squints her eyes at her. For a moment they’re sharp, then they grow cloudy again. Full of yearning. Resignation. She looks so tired. “I know you believe that everything is good, and kind, and that is one of the things I love about you, but that’s not the real world. In the real world people are bad. They’re cruel, and they hurt good people. That police officer died today because I thought it would be noble to hold a press conference. What good is noble when people die? Good doesn’t always triumph.” Kara thins her lips. “In the  _real_ world, everything I do hurts people. I’ve turned on my mother. My brother. I let my birth mother drown.” What? “I killed Jack to save Supergirl. I barely even know Supergirl. No one can depend on me. I’m always… damning those I love, for what? Strangers? The greater good?” She wipes wine from her lips. “It feels awful. Maybe that’s why people stray. Especially Luthors.” She runs a hand through her hair, talks more to herself. “Hey, you know, it’s… it’s in my DNA. You shouldn’t be close to me. I can’t be trusted. So, please… please just stop. Stop believing me, okay?” She has another large gulp of the wine. “I am not worth it.”

She thinks of James’ words at CatCo, the night of her confrontation with the police officer.  _I could refute every single one of your points, but something tells me you wouldn’t be able to hear me._ Can Lena hear her? Did James feel as helpless as she does now? Kara Danvers can’t help. Could Supergirl? She’s paralyzed by indecision.

 

X

 

Supergirl’s fist tears through the car. Metal parts as if it were tissue, glass shatters, spraying over her. It doesn’t hurt her because she doesn’t bleed. She hits it again, finding no resistance, gritting her jaw harder. She lifts the car, hurls it to the others stacked in the junkyard. If it lands, it could set off a mass explosion. There’s no one here. But maybe there’s some small animal. She watches it, almost frozen in the air. No one should be able to process life this way. She wishes she could talk to Barry. The car moves in a gentle arc. She flies to it, catching it midair, neatly setting it down on the ground.

She still burns. She glares at the car. Heat vision. The first time it happened was an accident. She’d been angry about that woman who showed up at the Danvers’ home. The woman who looked just like her mother, but wasn’t her mother. She felt lied to. Her mother was returned only to be taken away. An imposter who came by to scold her. Her heart was ripped out. It was the first time she’d felt that mix of rage and anguish. She’d been crying in bed, staring up when the heat vision started. She charred walls. Blankets. She tried to cover it with her fingers, but burned them, shooting a hole through the roof instead.

The sensation was like someone shoving flaming knives out of her eyes. It felt that way the first few times. They would burn for days. She couldn’t see straight. Now it’s another thing she can’t feel. The car heats under her controlled gaze, turning hot, burning orange and gold before bursting into a splash of molten metal.

She slumps, rubs her eyes, picks the metal up, shaping it into a sphere, cooling it until she’s reduced it to the size of a baseball. She considers throwing it but doesn’t want to get into word problems to determine how her strength would affect trajectory and distance, what damage it might cause, so she lets it fall to the ground.

She can still hear the wine glass slipping from Lena’s hand. Her apologies.  _It’s okay,_ Kara said,  _I’ll take care of it._ Lena listened when Kara told her to pull her legs up onto the couch. Kara cleaned the mess, brushing the broken glass into a box. Lena rested against the armrest of the couch, while Kara packed up food, washed the dishes, stealing looks behind her to Lena, whose eyes were half-closed and somewhere else.

She prepared an ice pack.  _This is for your back,_ Kara said.  _You should ice it before it gets worse. Just for a little while._ Lena watched her through a haze.  _Can you sit up for me?_

Lena sat up. Kara sat behind her, gingerly pressed the ice to Lena’s back, hearing her small gasp, maybe at pain, maybe at the cold.  _Sorry_. Lena shook her head. Kara felt her heat through the sweatshirt and ice. Felt her heartbeat beneath her fingers. Smelled the alcohol on her breath. Felt her shake. The slightest pressure as she leaned back against her. Kara kept a steadying hand to Lena’s arm. Stroked it without knowing. Maybe trying to warm her. Lena’s hand settled over her own. Kara stilled. Maybe it read like tension. Maybe it was. Either way, Lena’s touch fell away. 

Supergirl runs, barreling into the sky. She thinks of the CatCo article she wrote weeks ago.  _Though there have been no reports of illness born from the lead bomb Lena Luthor used to stop the Daxamite invasion,_ Kara wrote,  _the question remains: are we safe?_ Lena read it, just before the unveiling at the Waterfront. She was kind. 

_And what is the whole truth? That I built a lead bomb to stop the Daxamites overrunning the city and in the process potentially sickened countless National City citizens?_

_The article poses the question but doesn’t assign guilt._

_The question was just put out there, with no evidence to the contrary,_ Lena said.

There still is, Supergirl thinks, no evidence to suggest that it truly was Lena’s doing. But Lena was hurt.  _This is my worst nightmare,_ she told her earlier. That was before people died. Today has felt like weeks. Maybe time will never make sense to her. She flies aimlessly, not trusting herself to right wrongs tonight. The smallest slip will reduce someone to a bloody mist. She thinks of that ‘man’ in the alley this morning. Who did that?

Supergirl lands on the balcony. Rests her arms on the railing and breathes out. There’s a breeze. Supergirl thinks it’s cooler tonight. She worries the apartment isn’t warm enough for Lena. It’s hard to gauge temperature sometimes. The balcony door slides open. Cat Grant steps out. Supergirl resists the urge to hug her. She wishes her mom could hug her. Tell her everything will be all right.

“It’s you.” Cat appraises her from the doorway before joining her. “I thought you’d left the building. You don’t write, you don’t call…”

“In case you’ve missed it, Ms. Grant, I do have a job.”

“Protecting National City, don’t I know it. What’s the latest statistic? Crime is down seventy percent? That’s…” she muses, searching for a word. “I suppose that’s impressive.”

Supergirl pulls away from the railing, settling her hands on her hips, lifting her chin lightly. Cat observes, her posture languid and relaxed, but her eyes vigilant. “It’s the least I can do.” She hesitates. “I could stand to do more.”

Kara Danvers texted Maggie earlier tonight.  _Any leads on that second shooter?_ Maggie returned the text hours later.  _Nothing yet._ Then:  _I’ll let you know if we find anything._ Maybe that’s what she should be doing. Finding whoever that person is. Another angry parent? Someone who just hates Lena? It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to take her out. 

“Paying attention to cable news coverage, are we?” Cat narrows her eyes on her. “Shouldn’t you be above that?”

“That’s not what I was expecting to hear from the Queen of All Media.”

“How would you know? The last time I saw you was the night of the Daxamite Invasion. Up, up, and away. You’ve been MIA ever since.” Cat takes a breath. “You’ve been bad for business. I don’t typically go releasing our sales numbers willy nilly, but you must know  _you_ are our go-to cover girl. But lately you’ve had such a sour face.”

“I thought you were a feminist. You’re telling me I should smile more?”

“I’m telling you CatCo Magazine sells better when your beaming face is on the cover. But I can’t remember the last time I saw Supergirl smile. We all know you’re strong, and you’re brave,” she sounds a little bored, “and through your actions we can infer that you’re kind. But I fear that something is amiss.” 

Supergirl curls her fingers at her hips. “You said so yourself, crime is down seventy percent. National City is safer than ever.”

“But how are  _you,_ Supergirl?” 

Supergirl thins her lips, her fingers cramping at her side. “I’m doing my job. The only job that matters.”  _The job you thought I should do full time when you forced me to leave CatCo._

“Hm.” She turns her body toward the railing, folding her arms across the bars and looking out. “Are you sure that’s true?”

Supergirl faces the railing, staring at the lights in the city. “You told me, I don’t get to be a real person. I have to represent all the goodness in the world.”

Cat cocks her head, moving it from one side to the other, thoughtful. “The night you threw me off this very balcony.” A pain flares inside her. “How could I forget?” Cat looks at her. “But, if I’m honest, what I truly remember is the next time you visited. Whatever was in your system was out. And you spoke with me, honestly, about what being Supergirl meant to you. Do you remember?”

Supergirl says nothing.

“Well, I remember. You said, that you’d never been happier than when you were Supergirl. That every person in this city was a light. And when you helped them, that light had become a part of you.” Supergirl twines her fingers, licks her lips, can’t look at her. “You’ve helped so many. You should be a beacon. A lighthouse. I know it’s in there, somewhere. But I can’t remember the last time I saw it. The Supergirl I’ve seen lately has been dark, and cold. And sure, we can look at the statistics and say that you’re doing a better job than ever. But personally, my favorite thing about Supergirl has always been her heart. And it doesn’t seem to me like your heart has been in it.”

“I’m not a human. My heart doesn’t matter.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re right. You’re not a human. You’re kinder than the rest of us. Better. It’s unfair, but you’re strong enough to bear it.”

“I don’t feel strong.” Her voice comes out weak and wispy. “I keep letting everybody down.” Cat waits. “I try to do the right thing, but I screw it up. With that cop. At the press conference.” She touches her lips. “I had a friend die during the Daxamite Invasion. He was a Daxamite. I was… I guess you can say I was mentoring him. I promised I’d keep him safe. I would make him a superhero, like me. He was going to be great.” She stills, her eyes watering. She controls herself. “But when it came down to it, I chose this world over him.  _I_ pushed that button on Ms. Luthor’s lead bomb device. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. And now children in this city have died, but they’ve tried to kill  _her_ for it. Supergirl wasn’t there to defend Ms. Luthor. And now they say I’ve abandoned her. They take that as… evidence that I think she’s guilty. But if I’d gone, they would have said I was her hired muscle— and they would have twisted that, too.” She clears her throat. “I don’t know what’s right anymore.”

“Mh. I don’t envy your position. Being the superior Super, making the hard decisions, cleaning up everything on your own when your cousin decides to take a staycation in Metropolis. It really is true that women have to work twice as hard to get half the credit.” She sighs, the thought seeming to exhaust her. “But for what it’s worth, I think you’re wrong. I think you do know what’s right. Maybe you’ve lost your way, maybe you’ve spent too much time listening to the talking heads on cable television, or reading CatCo’s articles from our exceptional journalistic team. We all have a job. But you’re more than that.” She touches the crest on her chest. “This S—”

“It’s not an S.”

“Stands for Hope. And when I see it, and others see it, they also know it stands for someone who will always do the right thing. No matter how difficult. You cannot let it in. What the cable news says, what twitter says, all those silly Instagram memes, the conspiracy posts shared on Facebook, or what that walking rectangle Morgan Edge says.  _You do the right thing._ No matter what. You let them think what they want. Because at the end of the day, you’re the one who will bear those decisions. You see more clearly than any of us. We may be a light, but you make us burn brighter, every single day that you go out there, and inspire us all to be better than we think we can be.” She flattens her hand on the crest. “I feel your heart, Supergirl. It’s not gone yet.”

Supergirl lowers her face, looks at her. “I still feel lost.”

“Trust yourself. Take comfort in those you love, and who love you. No matter what, I have faith you’ll rise to the occasion.” She taps the crest one more time, lowers her hand. “You just have to remember everything that you stand for. I know you haven’t forgotten.”

Supergirl exhales shakily. Nods. Feels better, for the moment. “Thank you, Ms. Grant.”

“Thank  _you,_ for all your hard work.  _Now_  will you tell me why you’ve been away for so long?”

“I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“We both know you have, Supergirl.”

Supergirl rests against the railing again. “When my parents sent me to Earth, I was meant to protect my baby cousin. Superman. I watched my planet and family die. It died because of… negligence. Blind optimism, maybe. A refusal to see things as they were. I couldn’t do anything about it. When my pod got knocked off course, I couldn’t do anything about that either. I slept for decades. And when I got here, my cousin was grown. For a long time, I wished I’d died on Krypton. I was spared to save him— and in the end, that didn’t matter, because he didn’t need me. So I lived in this world. I was no one special. Nothing extraordinary. I took it for granted. When I finally came out as Supergirl, I realized, I could fulfill my parents’ legacy. That I could be a protector for this planet. It was a hard balancing act at first,” she toys with her fingers. “When Mon-El died, I realized I would never have that normal life. I didn’t need balance. It was pointless to hold on to my attachments, when I may ultimately have to betray them for the greater good.”

“So you’re letting life pass you by because you’re afraid. What did I tell you about fear?” 

Supergirl tries to remember. “That some of the worst decisions in your life were based on fear.”

“And?” Cat waits. Gets tired of waiting. “That  _because of you_ , I started letting people into my life. You’ve forgotten yourself, Supergirl. Perhaps you’ve bought into the ridiculous delusions of those weirdos at the Waterfront, their delusions that you are a god, incapable of making mistakes, but we both know you’re no god. You wear blue and red, for Christ’s sake. You’re just a woman, like me, doing the best you can. You will never save everyone. You will never be perfect. All you can do is try, to the very best of your ability, to do what’s right. Whatever silly day job you have— that’s  _just_ as important as being Supergirl. Whoever is in your life, whoever makes life worth living? Those are the people that make you strong, not how hard you can hit. Interacting with the regular people is a reminder of everything you have to fight for.  _They_  are the lights in your life that show you the way and keep you going. Removing yourself from them will only plunge you into darkness.” She sighs. “It’s okay to be lost. It’s okay to be scared. Stop, and take the time you need to gather your bearings, and then, when you’re ready, and centered, you’ll keep moving. Why do I have to keep reminding you of how extraordinary you are?”

Supergirl looks at her, unable to swallow. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say, ‘ _you’re right, Ms. Grant. I could stand to listen to you more.’_ ” Cat looks at her. “I know things may be difficult for you, but they’re difficult for all of us. You don’t get to whine. You don’t get to quit.”

Supergirl smooths her fingers over the balcony railing. Yes. That’s true. Whatever she feels or doesn’t feel makes no difference. It’s her responsibility. She didn’t know what to say before. Now she doesn’t know how to breathe. Her lungs burn, all those ugly resentments smothered before she lets air flow back into her. She wonders what Astra might say to her if she wasn’t dead. “I won’t quit.”

“Good. I’m sure there’s a plane or train or automobile in need of rescue. But Supergirl? That human connection, we’ve talked about, with the ones that we love? That’s just as important as catching bullets and patting ourselves on the back for a job well done. If there’s a light out there for you, go to it.” 

Supergirl mulls it over. Being there for her loved ones is important. But is it more important than saving lives? She can’t be everywhere at once. Be everything at once. Only Kal can understand the weight of what she does. Kal who doesn’t think he could have made the decision she made. That’s why they prefer him. Because of his human brain, his human heart. Supergirl lifts into the sky, looks down at her. “Goodnight, Ms. Grant.”

“Goodnight, Supergirl.”

 

X

The hallway is dark, but Kara sees the light of the television from beneath the door. Nearly two in the morning and Lena’s still awake. She unlocks the door and steps inside. The television is tuned to MSNBC. The volume is down. Kara looks at the screen. Scenes from the press conference, protestors fleeing as shots fire.  _CEO steps down amidst allegations of lead poisoning,_ the chyron reads.

Kara turns the television off. Lena’s on the couch asleep, her laptop and files on the floor around her. Kara waits for her to rouse, to shift, but there’s no movement. Kara sighs softly, hangs up her jacket and messenger bag, steps out of her shoes. She can’t tell if it’s cold here. She looks at the thermometer and sees that it’s set to fifty degrees. There’s no point paying extra for what she can’t feel. She raises the thermostat to sixty-five and returns to the couch. “Lena,” she says softly. She doesn’t wake. She touches her shoulder gently but Lena just nestles against the armrest.

Kara stares at her another while, stoops down and carefully picks Lena up in her arms. The room is dark. Lena’s light. Kara carries her to the bed, settling her down gingerly, drawing the sheets over her. Maybe in sleep she can have peace. Even if she still looks troubled. Kara sets a bottle of water down on the nightstand and exits.

She showers, changing into her pajamas and retiring to the couch with her laptop, careful not to disturb Lena’s things. She promised James she would write that article. Snapper is depending on her. Cat, too. Lena. She takes a breath. Maybe she can get this posted to the website late this morning. 

_L-Corp CEO Lena Luthor, stepped down from her company yesterday afternoon, after unverified allegations by Morgan Edge, that the lead bomb device she modified and, Supergirl detonated in order to repel the Daxamite Invasion, has caused lead poisoning for some residents of National City._

She spends the next hour writing, re-writing, and editing the article.

“Kara…?” Lena’s groggy voice. “Is that you?”

Kara was just finding her groove. She sets the laptop aside, rounds the corner past the partition to the ‘bedroom’. “Hey.” She keeps her voice quiet. “I’m here.” 

Lena turns to face her, sits up, looks around. “I took your bed.” She’s confused. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no. I wanted you to.” She takes a careful seat on the edge of the bed. “You need rest.” Lena breathes, her eyes adjusting in the darkness before they settle on her. “I was just doing a little work.”

“What time is it?”

Kara smiles bashfully. “It’s late.”

Lena rubs her eyes. Squints them. “I’m so thirsty.” She starts to swing her legs over to the side when she spots the water bottle on the nightstand. “You think of everything.” She uncaps the water bottle and has a few long drinks. “My head is pounding.”

“All the more reason to rest.” She’d offer her ibuprofen but she doesn’t have any. She doesn’t get headaches. Doesn’t hurt. She reminds herself to get some, for times like these. She’d offer to go now but knows Lena would never accept.

Lena smiles tiredly. “What about your rest? You’ve been carrying me on your back all day.” Kara shakes her head. “When I woke up just now I wasn’t sure where I was. I was hoping the past twenty-four hours had all been some awful dream.” She furrows her eyebrows, looks down at her hands before looking at her. “I have a niggling feeling I may have said a lot of things… that I shouldn’t have said.” Lena returns the water bottle to the nightstand, lies down on her side to face her, folding her arms close. 

Kara mirrors her, resting her head on the other pillow. “I don’t think you should ever apologize for saying how you feel.”

“What I said was unfair.”

“Unfair how?”

“If I said… what I think I may have said about Mon-El…” She bites her lower lip. “It wasn’t okay to put it out there like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… I’m looking to be absolved, or forgiven. Or comforted. Like I resent any anger you might have.” She sighs, closes her eyes. “You’ve done enough for me. More than enough. And if you never want to talk about him, that’s okay. And if you never forgive me for it, that’s okay, too.”

Kara thinks a long time. Lena lets her. “Lena. I can’t forgive you, because there’s nothing to forgive. You did nothing wrong. Supergirl chose to work with you. She chose to use a solution that you provided. But even if she hadn’t. Even if… you hadn’t left that decision to her, even if  _you_  had pushed that button yourself? I know you would have done it with the best of intentions. There’s nothing to forgive.”

Lena smiles, looks at her. “ _I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don’t believe I deserved my friends._ ”

Kara returns the smile, adjusts her glasses. “Walt Whitman. But in this case, you’re both wrong.” Kara holds her pillow. “We’ve both lost people we love. I was sad when Mon-El died. It’s… affected me more than I’d like. I haven’t been very good at maintaining my relationships.” Her voice grows faint. 

“You haven’t been so bad.”

Kara thinks back to Lena’s earlier words. Lena blamed herself for Kara not seeing or calling her. “That’s not true. But thank you.” She shifts, her fingers accidentally brushing Lena’s. She doesn’t pull away. Neither does Lena. “You’ve never pushed.” She flushes. “Some days it feels like I can be knocked over with a feather.”

Lena strokes her fingers. “If that day comes, you tell me. I’ll devise a feather reflector.” She smiles, Kara does, too. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like your faith was a joke. As if your belief in the greater good was something to ridicule.”

“A lot of people think that’s silly.”

“But it just so happens to be the thing I most love about you. Your kindness. Your heart. You haven’t just looked past my name, and my reputation. You’ve seen me. Believed in me.”

What Cat admires about Supergirl, Lena loves about Kara Danvers. Kara bites her lower lip. “You make it easy.”

Lena strokes her fingers. Kara’s heart pounds a little harder. “You know, whenever people talk about my having friends in high places, they’re usually talking about Supergirl. They don’t know that mild-mannered Kara Danvers is my secret weapon.”

Kara smiles again, seeing their fingers more clearly, she’s sure, than Lena can. Maybe Lena relies on touch. If only she could close her eyes to focus. “I’m like your personal Mr. Magoo. Causing mischief where ever I go. And I have the wardrobe to match.”

“Oh, come now, you dress  _much_ better than Mr. Magoo.”

“Cat said it looked like I ransacked her dead father’s closet.”

“But did her grandfather have your lovely pink belts?” She readjusts, a little closer now. “Or your vintage skirts and cardigans?”

“Appearance really matters. Especially in the workplace. I work at a fashion magazine, but… you and Sam dress like you walked out of one.”

“Maybe. But your style is all your own. You’re one of a kind. I think you look great,” Lena says. Kara’s face heats more. “Kara— I’m sorry, my head is still throbbing. I’m going to turn in. Let me take the couch.” Kara shakes her head. Lena sighs softly. “What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you coming to bed? Staying in bed?”

“I’m going to take the couch.”

“It’s your bed. Just… stay with me for a while.”

Kara nods. Lena releases her hand and turns on her side, facing away from her. Kara knows she can’t fall asleep here. One involuntary spasm and she could break Lena’s bones. Lena pulls the blanket over them. She’s only shared a bed with Alex. She’s never had a serious boyfriend, or a lover. The last time she went on a date was with Adam. She never got past a handful of kisses with James.

This is different. Lena’s her best friend. Wearing her clothes. Kara can smell her. Her scent. The soft fragrance of her shampoo and body wash, moisturizer, lotions. It makes her dizzy.

  
She’ll refocus. She thinks of the article. Normally she’d take notes, but she doesn’t want to wake Lena. She’ll wait until she falls asleep and then head to the couch for the night. Forty minutes pass.

“Kara?” Lena says. Kara touches her back gently. She’s here. This time Lena doesn’t relax. “What if I did kill them? What if children keep dying?”

Kara knows what it would mean. Not only the tragic loss of life, but more assassination attempts. Imprisonment. Losing L-Corp. She would be the most hated woman in the nation. Maybe the world. Lena would never forgive herself. She’d think she was a Luthor through and through. 

Sometimes hope is believing in the most unlikely outcome. Kara knows she has to hope. She can’t promise it will all work out. She can’t lie to her. She scoots close, wraps an arm around her waist, lacing their fingers. “Is this okay?” she asks quietly. Lena trembles, nods, fingers closing over hers. Kara presses to her back. She kisses her shoulder, her hair. 

 

 

 


	6. Changing

Ruby’s been crying for days and she hasn’t been alone. Sam thinks the only thing more painful than losing a child is watching one suffer. Maybe that’s what pain will mean for her. Mental anguish. 

She found three holes in her clothing. One on her jacket sleeve, another in her blouse, over her stomach, the last was on her back. A dented bullet fell to the floor with a thud when she removed her jacket.

She keeps waiting to wake up from this nightmare. Each morning she opens her nightstand drawer to find the bullet. It sits in the corner like a smashed hornet; battered, like Ruby's heart, like any notion that she could forget Ruby's nonsense about being a superhero. 

Ruby was still at the sleepover when Sam found the bullet, hyperventilated, fell to the floor like a madwoman. Maybe she is a madwoman and this is all another hallucination. She walked away from the press conference. If there wasn't something wrong with her, she'd be dead. She could hope someone would usher Ruby to her mother’s funeral, but there’s no one. Ruby would be alone.

She looks in the nightstand drawer. The bullet is still there. She has no time to dwell on it. She's a CEO. CFO. Mother. Hero? Monster. No. Hero. She's doing the best she can. She has to call Patricia. She doesn’t want to call Patricia. She has to run a company. She has to be a mother. 

“You ready?” She asks from Ruby's doorway.

Ruby nods. 

They drive in silence, Ruby holding on to a package of tissues, tearfully sniffling. She cries, as children do, without shame or apology, the tears simply rolling down her face. Sam strokes her arm. She's missing work for Luke's funeral. Or thinks she is until a family member comes over and won’t let them in. They’ve made it as far as the church steps. “You work for her, don’t you? You _willingly_ work for a woman who poisons children, who killed Luke. I saw you on tv.”

Ruby looks up at Sam, and Sam sees it in her eyes, the questioning gaze of a child who no longer recognizes her mother. Sam looks to the woman, dressed in black, sent over by Luke’s parents, or acting on their behalf. She can’t get into an argument here. “Whatever your opinion of me or Lena Luthor— ” the woman bristles. Maybe she’s looking for someone take this out on. Maybe rage is better than sadness. “My daughter was close to him. I don’t have to go in,” she doesn’t need to disrupt this funeral, “but can Ruby go? She has nothing to do with any of this.”

“Mom, I don’t want to go without you.”

“You’ll be fine, sweetie,” Sam looks back to the woman. She takes a breath. “I’m her only family and Luke meant a lot to her. Hate me all you want, but please don’t punish my daughter for it.”

The woman relents. “All right. Do you have any other friends here, Ruby?” Ruby nods tearfully, looks up nervously at Sam. “You can sit with them. You,” she says to Sam, “need to wait outside. And don’t let anyone see you for God’s sake—” she starts drawing Ruby inside.

“Mom—”

“It’s okay, Rubes.” She stoops in front of her briefly, strokes her arms. “I know this is going to be hard, but trust me. If you don’t try, you’ll regret it later. If it’s too much for you, you come to me.” She palms her face, kisses her forehead. “I’ll be waiting outside for you.” A tight hug and she takes the steps down, past the glowing skeletons who shuffle into the church. 

It’s been days since the allegations against Lena came out. There are rumors that the state attorney general is gathering evidence for a warrant. Stocks are still tumbling. She’s waiting for a miracle to reveal that this had nothing to do with Lena and it hasn’t come. She gets to her car, leans against it, dressed in black like a grim reaper. She looks through work e-mails on her phone.

She responds to what she can, but other emails require her computer. She browses the news headlines. Too many pictures of Lena from the press conference, ashen. She's never seen her look that way. There's another story of a priest found dead in a church. _I’ve never seen anything like this in my thirty years working,_ a police officer is quoted as saying. _Whoever did this is a real sadist._ They touch briefly on the priest’s sexual misconduct allegations before moving on to statements by the bereft. 

Her nose twitches. She looks up. Kara Danvers. She's somber in a black, open peacoat and dress. Her hair spills out like gold over her shoulders, pinned back at the sides. She moves toward the church doors but slows, turns her gaze towards her.

Sam waves. Kara comes over. “Hey. I thought you'd be here,” Kara says. Her words are always soft, as if worn down by the waves. There’s nothing hard about her. She looks toward the church and back to Sam. “Are you heading in? We can go in together.”

Sam pockets her phone, crosses her arms. “Go ahead. I’m afraid I've been banned from the funeral.”

Kara's lips part, a silent 'oh'. “I'm sorry.” She looks around. She doesn't ask why and Sam knows she understands. “Is Ruby okay?”

“They said she could find a friend. It kills me to not be with her right now. She's been crying so much.” 

“It's hard losing friends. Especially at that age. I wish... things had worked out differently.”

“The two of us.” She looks at Kara a while longer, hears the blood rushing in her veins. Her head hurts. 

“I know this isn't the right time, but I thought we could meet later. Maybe start putting some data together on where these lead poisoning cases have originated? Lena's put together a big list but... she's been living in her lab. You know.”

“Yeah. I heard she stayed with you a few days. It must have been nice to get away.”

“I'm not sure I helped.”

“She sounded grateful,” Sam says. Kara looks to the church. “I didn't expect to see you.”

“Lena wanted to be here. I did, too. For support, for...” her eyes fog, she lowers her face. “This shouldn't have happened.” She looks back to her. “How are you doing? I know you were worried about having that conversation with Ruby. The press conference was scary, and work must be busy.”

“Someone get me off this rollercoaster.” She crosses her arms. “I wish I could say it’s been a breeze, but it’s been tough. Emotionally, physically. I haven’t slept in days.” She shakes her head. “But I’m getting by, by the skin of my teeth. That shooting _was_ nuts. I know it’s another Tuesday for Lena, but it must have really unsettled you.”

Her brow burrows. “Yeah.” She shifts her weight. “Either way… you’re still standing.” Sam scratches her arm, tracing where the bullet should have torn her open. Where did those two bullets go? “You should give yourself some credit.”

“I’ll work on that.”

Kara nods. “I should get inside. Should I sit with Ruby? I can tell her you sent me.”

“How? You've never met her.”

Kara stares, red slowly crawling up her cheeks. “Um.” She touches her glasses. “But you showed us pictures, during pizza night. Ruby in a soccer uniform. And ice skating.”

“Oh, God. Yes. Jesus. Where's my mind? If you could— I'd... I really appreciate ... all of this, Kara. This past week has been awful. This helps.”

She smiles. “We all need a little help sometimes.” She looks to the church. “If I can find her without disrupting everyone, I will.”

“Thanks. And hey— um. Let's get together sometime. Maybe we can track down where all of this started. I can't... I just want for everything to go back to normal.” 

Kara’s smile is bittersweet, beyond her years. “Yeah, me too.” 

They exchange numbers and separate, Kara heading inside, Sam waiting outside. She can hear them all. Can hear too much. Whispers. Hoarse breathing. Electricity. Drums. People crying. People fucking. She clamps her hands down over her ears and gets into the car. It doesn't help. Everything is too loud. Her hands are muscle, bleeding, bones. A cross going through flesh like butter. Bone snapping. Flashes. Meaningless. A hand slaps the car window. Another one. Shadows converge around the car, slapping metal, slapping glass, rocking the vehicle. She squeezes her eyes shut and whimpers. 

She slips into black. 

The knock jars her. She gasps as if having broken the surface. There are families streaming by, faces drawn with sorrow. She looks to the passenger's side window and rolls it down. Kara and Ruby. Cold air streams in, stinging her. Sam unlocks the car. Ruby gets into the front seat. “You found her.” She strokes Ruby’s hair, presses another kiss to her forehead. Her cheeks are stained with tears. 

“She did great,” Kara says. She goes around to the driver’s window. Sam turns the radio on and looks at her. Kara speaks quietly. “I think… the woman who approached you before came up to me as we were heading out. They asked that you not go to the burial,” her forehead crinkles in apology. “I thought— well. That I should let you know.”

“How the hell does Lena put up with this?” Sam mutters. “Okay. Message received.” She glances at Ruby, switching through the stations, back to Kara. “Hey. Thank you. I think I’m going to take Ruby to lunch somewhere. Want to join us? I’ll give you a lift.”

Kara smiles. “I can’t. I have…” a breath, “a few errands to run. But thank you.” She looks to Ruby who lifts her head. Whatever Kara was going to say, she hesitates. “Feel better.” Ruby thanks her, sets her attention to the radio. “See you later, Sam.” She turns, hands in her pockets, and goes. 

Sam watches after her. She rolls up the windows and turns down the radio. “You doing okay?” Ruby fiddles with her fingers. “We’re not going to be able to go to the burial.”

“What did that woman mean when she said you work for a woman who poisons children?” Ruby asks. “Did she mean Ms. Luthor?” Her eyes are shining again. “Did she kill Luke?”

“No. _No._ ” She touches her shoulder, gives it a gentle squeeze. “That woman was upset, Ruby. Because this is all awful and sad. I am so sorry that you had to hear any of that. It’s not true. Lena did not kill Luke. I wouldn’t work for someone who would harm children.” She palms her face. “You are the most important thing in the world to me, baby. And I know this is scary, but you have to trust me. I would never do anything that would hurt you. I would never let anyone near you that would hurt you. Okay?” Ruby nods, sniffles. Sam wraps her up in her arms, kisses her hair. “You’ve been such a tough girl. I’m so proud of you.”

“When will I stop being sad?”

“I don’t know.” She closes her eyes, breathes out. “It might be a long time. And it’ll hurt for a while. But in time it’ll feel easier. Loss is a part of life, sweetie. And I wish you hadn’t experienced it while you were this young. The important thing is he was your friend. You made his life better, too.” Ruby cries a little longer, until she exhausts herself. Eventually she sniffles and pulls back. “Okay,” Sam pulls out the cell phone and hands it to her. “You’re in charge of music. I’m going to take us to get pizza and then you can pick dessert, okay?”

“Okay.” She takes the phone, unlocks it. “What’s this number?”

“Hm?”

Ruby shows her the phone screen. Sam looks at the number, dialed twelve times over the past hour. She swallows. Exhales. Patricia. She called Patricia twelve times. “Work thing.”

Ruby loses interest. Sam drives. She called twelve times. The first time she’s  tried to make contact with her in twelve years. One time for each missed year. Patricia was always reclusive. She didn’t pick up. Maybe she changed her number. She doesn’t remember calling. How does this keep happening? 

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“What will happen to me if something bad happens to you?”

Sam looks at her. Who can she point to? No one. Ruby becoming a ward of the state isn't an option. She knows all too well what happens to foster children. Ruby would suffer. “I didn't think I was raising such a worry wart. Nothing bad's going to happen.”

Her little skull bobs at Sam. “Promise?”

Sam looks away from her. “I promise.”

 

X 

The phone stops vibrating in Kara’s hand and goes to voicemail.

_Hey. Not sure if you've read that story on the priest. Someone leaked but they’re still downplaying it. It was bad. Alley bad._ Kara hears Maggie sigh into the phone from across the city _. Let me know if there's something we should be looking for._

Maggie ends the call and Kara continues moving down the dingy hall of the community center, thinking of the other funeral she attended today, for the police officer at the press conference. Officer Donnelly. The police officers nodded at her, but it was clear they didn't know who she was and why she was there. Kara listened to whispered conversation. Donnelly had just been inducted into the force a few months ago. Had volunteered to be at the press conference. _Every citizen deserves protection_ , she said. The officers repeated her words with disdain, and a sense of pride, that even Lena Luthor could provoke such a response. Kara agrees with Donnelly, but wonders if they’re both naive. The cop she dropped off at the station is there, broken arm in a sling, as if he weren’t a monster in their midst.

Nothing makes sense anymore. Supergirl’s life is becoming as complicated as Kara Danvers’. Kara Zor-El is another entity all together. What would her parents think? She tells herself she honors them. She taunted J’onn, while infected with red kryptonite, for refusing to be one of his people. What of her Kryptonian heritage? Her fingers wrap around her necklace. She thinks of her parents. Of Astra. Luke. Donnelly. There have been too many funerals today. 

She feels more responsible than usual. She can absolve Lena, yet blames herself for detonating the bomb. _I’m better than a human,_ she told Alex shortly after Mon-El died, exhausted by Alex’s constant need to comfort her. Sometimes Kara thinks Alex wants her to be dependent on her. She hates those thoughts. She knows how much Alex sacrificed for her; but she’s sacrificed, too. On Krypton she wanted to be a scientist. She could have been one here, too, but that’s what Alex wanted. It seemed unfair to take another thing away from her. 

She and Alex said they would talk about those things she said when she was under the influence of the red kryptonite. The things Alex acknowledged had truth to them. But they never did. Were they afraid of how ugly things would get? What other resentments might bubble to the surface? They came close when Clark visited and she considered moving to Metropolis with him. She thought it would be giving Alex her life back. She is still trying to give Alex her life back, but isn’t sure Alex sees it that way. She cannot allow herself to focus on her resentments and anguish. Not only is it whining; it’s dangerous. 

So she can’t whine about not protecting Donnelly. She can’t whine about children dying all across the city. She can’t whine that the mea culpa piece that Lena suggested for the botched press conference with Maxwell Lord and Morgan Edge, will be written by Snapper Carr, instead. She can’t whine that she’ll never have a normal life, or a normal love, or a normal family, or a completely honest life. She can’t whine about how Supergirl’s decisions affect Kara Danvers and those she loves. She can’t whine that the police don’t seem to trust her anymore. 

She considered attending Officer Donnelly’s funeral as Supergirl, but didn’t want to draw attention from the service. Sam was right to wait outside for Luke’s funeral. She has to stop thinking about it. Death all around her. Blood on her hands. The flickering lights of the community center crackle overhead, snapping like firecrackers. Wax melts, wicks burn. There’s old cloth and the crisp, fresh scent of men’s cologne.

Kara steps into the meeting area. The room is grey, the walls water stained. Thomas Coville unfolds chairs, arranging them in straight lines. He sets up a few more before noticing her. Instead of startling, he smiles. “We’re not due to start for another few hours.”

“I’m not here for a meeting.”

His tranquil smiles remains. “My mistake. You look like a visitor we had some weeks ago.” He sets another chair down before facing her, arms down at his sides, palms toward her. “How can I help you?”

Kara’s stomach is in knots. She clutches her notebook. She remembers what Winn said about him. An attorney who went off the deep end when his wife had an affair, only to find himself again after Supergirl saved him. It seems odd that anyone should change their lives because of her actions. “My name is Kara Danvers. I’m a reporter with CatCo magazine. You’re not wrong. I was here a few weeks ago.”

“And you’ve returned. We’re always happy to welcome believers to our flock.”

“I’m not a believer. I’m here as a reporter. I’ve come uninvited, but I was hoping you could answer a few questions I had about…” her mouth is numb. “About your religion.”

“I’ll answer anything.”

She expected antagonism, defensiveness. Not this openness. His face is kind. But her face has been described as kind. It doesn’t mean anything. “Thank you. I know what the Children of Rao believe in. But there are reports of your followers endangering themselves and others for a chance to be rescued by Supergirl. Don’t you think that’s dangerous?”

“I think this life demands a leap of faith. People in this world are eager for miracles, and they _do_ exist. Supergirl is proof.” That word again. Miracle. “You saw it in their faces the last time you were here. They had been touched by a god. If only everyone were so lucky to experience that. Think of the peace and tranquility this world would feel.”

He’s crazy _._ “But for all the people that come to these meetings, there are those who didn’t make it. I know what it means to…” she licks her lips, “to feel lost. And I think it’s admirable that you want to help people. But… maybe this kind of group—”

“Religion.”

“Maybe the people who gather here would be better served by a support group of some kind.”

“We do support one another. Ask any of them. Beautiful friendships have bloomed here. We’ve all been brought together by Her grace. By Rao’s will. This is a community.”

“But you and this community encourage its members to gather other followers.” She touches her glasses. “To put lives in danger. Logically Supergirl can’t save everyone. You know that, right? There’s only one of her.”

His eyes grow hazy and contemplative before they clear again. He looks at her, quizzical and excited. “Is this a test?” He steps closer. “Did you come here to test my faith, Supergirl?”

It’s rare that she’s cold. Now she’s paralyzed with it. Her breath has frozen in her lungs. “No. What— I’m not.” She shakes her head, dizzy. “I’m not.”

His eyes brighten. “I looked into your eyes from my seat on that plane. That night you ascended into this world. When you look into the eyes of God, you do not forget.” He knows. He _knows._ The room wobbles. The candles roar, the draft pushing into the building as loud as a hurricane. She turns on her heel, moves away. “Wait. Wait! Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. As Rao says, ‘let my God walk amongst you and shelter Her.’”

She rears on him. “I am not _God_. Rao is.”

“Rao says even his gods can lose their way.” His heart races, so loud it nearly drowns his words. “If you’re lost, I can help you.” He looks at her, brimming with compassion. “I know you’re lost.” He ducks away to the side, returns, a device in hand. Kara’s heart aches. Kryptonian technology. A piece of her home. How does he have it? Where did he get it? “I found every artifact of Krypton there was to find. This contains Rao’s words, it can remind you of what He says.”

“I know what Rao says. You are perverting it.” The softness slips away from her voice, snatching the Kryptonian device from him. She rips the glasses off her face, steps to him. “You’re going to stop having these meetings. You’re going to stop telling people to visit that statue at the Waterfront and you are going to stop telling people to put themselves in danger. _This_ is _not_ a religion. There can be no religion of _me._ I do not want your worship or that of your followers. I want it to _stop._ You will close these doors and tell them to never return. _That_ is what I command. If you tell them otherwise I will hear it. I will see you.” His smile grows nervous, zealous. “If I am a god, you have to do what I say. You need to trust me.”

He gazes at her, in awe, his eyes glistening with happy tears. He’s breathless. “I trust you.” He wipes the tears from his face, sniffles, his smile still bright. “I am your servant. Your will is my will, Supergirl.” 

She turns, slips her glasses on, walks away.

“Will I see you again?” He calls after her. 

She leaves without answering. 

X

Her words to Coville sit in her mouth like a sour taste. She doesn't allow herself to hate people. She tries not to let anger harden her heart. But the way he looked at her, as if she were more, as if she were higher, sickened her.

It is not in her nature to menace people. Not ordinary men. But he is no ordinary man. He knows who she is. He gathered a cult for her, risked lives for his demented religion. It ends today. It needs to end today. She can't bear that kind of reverance. He cries as if a god has granted him blessing. He's twisted.

Like her insides. What if he tells someone? Why do so many know that other part of her? Only Cat and Lena don't know. Cat was hard on her in the beginning, but is better lately. Much better. And that has nothing to do with Supergirl. Kara’s proud, knowing she worked her way there with Cat, on her own. Lena has always been lovely. She wants to keep it that way. That time with Lena as Kara Danvers was a sanctuary. Recently it feels like a chain, keeping her tethered. Winn is the only one she told willingly. He liked her, was kind to her without knowing. Everyone else hordes her identity, as if it were a party favor, a magic trick, a medal of honor. It isn't theirs to give away.

She remembers Maxwell Lord and flies onto his balcony, landing harder than she means to. A tile cracks beneath her boot. She looks at it, moves past it and stalks into the office. Maxwell Lord sits in his usual seat behind the desk. Lena Luthor sits across from him. Her hair is pulled back tightly, her lipstick more severe than Supergirl remembers. The dark eye makeup makes her eyes look like glaciers.

Supergirl hasn’t spoken to Lena since the explosions at the Waterfront. She didn’t go to her press conference where people died. Supergirl wonders if Lena is thinking about that now; is wondering why she stops at Maxwell Lord’s office when she hasn’t stopped at hers in over a year. They stare at one another before quickly averting their gaze.

Lord gets to his feet, grinning and clapping his hands. He always looks like he's plotting. “If it isn't the savior of National City, and on the day when I have public enemy number one here for a visit.” 

Lena crosses one leg over the other. A laptop sits in front of her, a stack of papers line Lord's desk. Why is she here? “Supergirl.”

It’s colder than Supergirl expects. Supergirl doesn’t know if there’s resentment there, or if the tone in Lena’s voice is a result of the past couple of weeks. “Ms. Luthor.”

Lord smiles. “Lena and I were just conducting a little business.” He looks to Lena. “What do you say you give me ten so I can talk to our Girl of Steel?”

Supergirl stops herself from flushing. Lena stands. “That won’t be necessary. I expect our business here is done.” She closes her laptop and slides it into her purse. 

“You know where to find me if you need anything else. Or if you change your mind,” he looks like a cat who has eaten a canary. Lena gives him an unreadable look, nodding to Supergirl before exiting, the door closing gently behind her. Lord cleans the paperwork off his desk, sliding it into a desk drawer. “Shame about her last press conference,” he says.

“What are you up to?” She asks.

“Making myself available when you stop by uninvited.”

“I meant with Ms. Luthor.”

“‘Ms. Luthor’?” He grins, takes a seat at the edge of the desk. “I thought you two were close. Seems like the sort of question close friends can talk about. Then again,” he stands, slides his hands into his pants pockets, “you didn’t make it to her last event.” He clicks his tongue. “NCPD is starting to think you’re unreliable. Serves them right. They’ve relied on you for too long. This is what happens when people get complacent.”

“I’m not here to talk about my relationship with the NCPD. I came to tell you about Thomas Coville and the Children of Rao,” she tells him. Lord leans against the desk, crosses his arms. “I get now why you couldn’t go and do it yourself. But it’s done. He’s shutting it down. They’re not going to keep practicing that nonsense.”

“You sound sure.”

“Did you tell him about me?” Lord looks back at her. “He knows who I am.”

He chuckles. “You’re terrible at the secret identity thing.”

She thinks that’s less true these days. “So it wasn’t you?”

“You capes are so wrapped up in your secret identities. You couldn’t handle a day of honest living. You want all the glory, none of the repercussions.” He opines. Supergirl thinks it’s one of the dumbest things he’s ever said. “About your cult; I’m not convinced they’re done.”

“I told him to stop and he said he would stop.”

“He listened to the words of his god. If anything, you’ve reaffirmed his faith, Supergirl. He and his followers won’t stop until something happens to make them stop believing in you.”

“Then how do I do that?” She grits her jaw. “Do you have a plan?”

“That’s the thing about religion. You can’t fight it with logic and science. Whatever misfortune befalls them, it was their god’s will. What fortune they earn, a blessing from above. It’s madness. Karl Max was right. Religion is the opiate of the masses. These sad sacks have nothing in their lives. No drive, no ambition. They don’t want to work, so they comfort themselves in knowing you have a plan. They think they’re special because you saved them. How many thank their doctors or vaccines? These are the same people who have no interest in science. Who post anti-vaxx articles, and think they’re advanced. They don’t want to work, or learn, they just want to reap the benefits. This cult is just National City’s version of Instagram famous.”

“That’s both condescending and unfair.”

“But true.”

“They’re sad and they want to believe in something.”

He cocks his head. “You think they should believe in you? Tell me something, Supergirl. You fill a room with all the people you’ve saved, how many do you think that would be? Now think about all those people you haven’t saved. How many buildings could you stuff with their corpses? You couldn’t even save your Daxamite friend. What hope could ordinary people have for you? If you _are_ a god, it’s only in your cruelty and flippant disregard for human life.”

She’s numb, but her words come out firm and confident. “I don’t think a guy who kidnaps comatose women to experiment on gets to have an opinion on what I am and am not doing right.”

“Ah, still torn up about Bizarro.” He shrugs, smiles. “You win some, you lose some. Luckily, my work with Bizarro not withstanding, Lena Luthor still sees me fit to do business with. So, I can’t be too untouchable.” He uncuffs his shirt, rolling up the sleeves to reveal his muscular forearms. He has strong hands. Supergirl knows it would just take the gentlest squeeze from her to reduce them to nothing. He grips the desk. “Speaking of gods. Interesting case, that Lena Luthor. I worked with her brother before. Hell of a guy.” Supergirl’s lip curls. “But she has a chip on her shoulder.”

“Pissed there’s a bigger billionaire in town?”

“I got here myself. She’s taking over the family business. Unsuccessfully, I might add. But, her misfortune is my gain. You know what’s sad about Lena Luthor is?” She narrows her eyes on him. “She’ll never reach her true potential. I’m brilliant. Way brighter than any of your guys at the DEO. Lena Luthor is something else, but she jumps at her own shadow. She’s so desperate to get away from the Luthor name that she’ll never achieve greatness. She’s too worried about what the citizens of National City think. Too tied up in… pesky morality. And _that’s_ why she’s going to fail. It won’t be long before L-Corp is gone. Or maybe Lord Technologies will take it over. She is…” he measures his words, “a very resistant woman.”

“I’m not interested in your opinion of her.”

He smiles, thoughtfully. “You know what your problem is, Supergirl? You come in here huffing about the Children of Rao, but beneath all that disdain, you still think of yourself as a god.” He pushes off the desk and rounds the table, pulling a stack of photos from his desk and throwing them onto the desk.  “Problem is, there’s another one of you running around.” Supergirl looks at the pictures, a church. “And whoever they are, they think they rule this planet. They _aren’t_ constrained by pesky morality.” She picks the pictures up, flips through them. She’s seen violence before. She’s never seen this specific kind of violence before. Degrading. “Guy was a predator, like a lot of his ilk. They covered it up for years.” Lord crosses his arms. “Man of the cloth. Who cares? But the force necessary to do that? Whoever did it wasn’t human. Whoever did it was like you.”

She sets down the pictures. “Not like me.”

“Kryptonian. Enough like you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And this isn’t the first time.”

Maggie has warned her to be quiet about this. “Where are you getting this information?”

“I have my sources. My question is, why aren’t you doing anything about it? Why has the DEO been quiet on this? I have my suspicions.” 

The door bangs open, Alex strides in, stony gaze set on Lord. “What the hell do you want?” She stops, realizes Supergirl is there, the shock buried faster than any human could tell. Supergirl takes a step back, hands on her hips, chin slightly lifted. “What is this?” Alex says.

Lord looks between them. “A family reunion. And a chance to set the record straight. I hope you don’t mind,” he tells Supergirl. “Matt Lauer had a button on his desk to lock doors; I have a button to summon the DEO’s guardian. See? Not so nefarious. It comes up like an emergency in the case of Agent Danvers, here. Thinking of patenting it for the masses. Could make a killing.”

“What are you doing here?” Alex asks Supergirl, she looks at Lord without waiting for an answer. “What are you up to?”

“You two need new material,” Lord says. He opens another desk drawer, pulls out a bottle of scotch. “Care to join me for a drink?” He asks. He pours himself a glass, lifts it up to Alex who looks from Supergirl to Lord before saying nothing. Supergirl remembers when Alex thought she had Maxwell Lord wrapped around her finger. A week later he’d learned her identity; having planted a camera in one of Alex’s bags. “You used to be friendlier.”

“We used to keep you in a cell at the DEO,” Alex says.

“With complimentary ass kickings on the house.”

“Well deserved,” she says.

Lord has a drink of the scotch. “I’m a busy man so I’m going to get to the point. What do you do know about the new Kryptonian in National City?” Alex’s face reveals nothing. “He or she has killed two men that we know of so far. Your sister,” Supergirl narrows her eyes, “was there when they found the first body, but the DEO has been silent. Hunting down dangerous aliens— I thought that was your job? Or have you decided charming billionaires are more your style these days?”

“There’s only one other Kryptonian on earth,” Alex says, “and that’s Superman.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he picks up the pictures from the desk and gives them to her. “Now you tell me, Agent Danvers. What other possible explanation could there be for this level of violence if not for a Kryptonian?”

Supergirl doesn’t tell him of mass shootings, innocents gunned down by the dozens. It doesn’t look much worse than this. “There are no other Kryptonians, Lord,” Supergirl says. “How do we know this isn’t some other creature you’ve created? When something stinks, you’re usually behind it.”

“If I were behind this, why would I be feeding you information and asking for answers?”

“A way to gauge Supergirl’s strengths and weaknesses,” Alex says. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” She looks from the pictures to Supergirl, back to Lord. “What do you know?”

“Like I said, two dead already. Both criminals, both having escaped justice for decades.”

Alex scoffs. “And we’re supposed to believe you care what happens to criminals?”

“Maybe not you,” he says, “but this one,” he cocks his head to Supergirl, “has been hitting crime hard. Somehow this one slipped under your radar.”

“We don’t know who or what this is,” Supergirl says. “But if I find them, I’ll put a stop to them.”

“ _If?_ I’m supposed to take your word? You didn’t tell the DEO.” He looks at Alex. “Your organization is failing. You have one job. One. You find aliens, you put a stop to them. And the one alien you _do_ have, your _one_ weapon, you’re not even in control of.”

“Excuse me?” Supergirl’s chest burns. “I am nobody’s weapon.” But she knows that’s not true. She knows what she’s been to the DEO. She knows why they don’t want to let go of her. 

“That’s too bad. Because whoever is doing this? They don’t care about the hallowed halls of a church.” His focus shifts to Alex. “You ask why I care about someone offing criminals? Because if this is a Kryptonian, and I suspect it is, their morality doesn’t align with ours. You let Superman charge off with your kryptonite,” he tells Alex, “and now we’re defenseless. I still haven’t been able to recreate it.”

“Cry me a river,” Alex says.

“You think this is a joke?” He growls. “What makes you think whomever’s doing this couldn’t wipe the floor with your sister?” Alex’s lips thin. “You think you’re hard,” he tells Supergirl. “You don’t know what hard is. You’re _soft._ And if this— _thing_ is out there, and you don’t put a stop to it? It will put a stop to you, and maybe the rest of the world after that. Maybe what this thing is looking for isn’t crime. It’s sin. And let me tell you something, there isn’t a soul alive who hasn’t sinned.”

“You’re afraid,” Alex says.

He shakes his head. “I’m terrified.”

They left not long after. Alex took the elevator to the ground level; Supergirl jumped from the balcony. Supergirl wants to leave. She waits, ignoring the passerbys gawking at her. Alex eventually exits. They walk to the DEO car and get in, Supergirl careful her cape doesn’t get caught in the door. She hates being in cars. Especially in this garb. It feels ridiculous.

“You knew about this and you didn’t tell me,” Alex says. Supergirl says nothing. “Are you so angry at me that you would jeopardize the DEO _and_ National City?”

“I learned about this latest one minutes before you did.” Hours ago, technically. She doesn’t mention Maggie. “And the first one— there was nothing to say. Nothing to find.”

“Because you didn’t call us,” the anger vibrates throughout her voice. Supergirl hears it, practically sees it. “The NCPD doesn’t have the resources we do. They’re going to miss things. I know you think you can do it all yourself, but you can’t. You’re _slipping,_ Kara.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? You’re Kara Danvers.”

“I’m Supergirl, and _my name is Kara Zor-El._ ”

Alex says nothing for a long time, taken aback by the cold of her words. Supergirl looks out the car, her vision sharpening until everything is reduced to blues and greys, skeletons moving along, hearts beating. Some fast, some slow. She focuses on them so she doesn’t have to focus on Alex. She can’t listen. It’s like cheating through conversations. She can’t care. 

“I want you to come back to headquarters with me,” Alex eventually says. “We need reports on what you’ve seen. You need to tell us everything so if there _is_ a Kryptonian out there, we can start tracking them.”

“Really? What did you do before I was there? Isn’t that the point of the DEO? Hunt down aliens, lock them up?”

“I want to do a scan on you.”

She looks at her, surprised. “Why?”

“Because you’re not yourself. You haven’t been yourself for far too long and this _you_ —” Kara can’t tell if the tone in her voice is concern or disgust, “is sounding a lot like the you who was infected with red kryptonite.” Supergirl hardens her jaw, nose flaring. “And excuse me for thinking that, when you’re meeting with Maxwell Lord in private.”

“In ‘private’? It wasn’t a date. I had business with him—”

“‘Business’ with Maxwell Lord—”

“And I’m allowed to see whoever the hell I want, Alex!” The words surprise even her. She closes her eyes, takes a moment. When she looks at Alex again she’s flesh and blood, not an x-ray outline.  When she speaks again the anger has faded. “I don’t need you to vet my life. I don’t need you _or_ the DEO on my back. I don’t need your permission. _You_ need _me._ And I’m tired of pretending that’s not the case. I’m tired of safeguarding every human’s fragile ego.” She scoffs, smiles. “I can handle Maxwell Lord, I can handle Thomas Coville, and if there’s another Kryptonian, I can handle them, too. The truth is that even Superman can’t stand against me. _**I**_ _am_ _ **unstoppable**_. Not you, not Maxwell Lord, not the Children of Rao, not Superman, not the DEO. The only unstoppable thing on this planet is _me._ ”

“Can you hear yourself right now?” Alex asks. “I know you’ve been having a hard time since Mon-El died.” Supergirl stares at her, a tight smile on her lips. “But you sound _just_ like you did when that red kryptonite had a hold of you. Do you remember what you said to me that night?”

Supergirl remembers. She remembers the contempt and resentment she felt for Alex. The utter revulsion. Alex told her she wasn’t herself. _I’m more me than I’ve ever been._ Kara said. _I see clearly! I see how you’ve always been jealous of me! You didn’t want me to come out as Supergirl because you didn’t want me to own my powers._ _ **I can**_ _**fly**_ _._ _ **I can catch bullets with my**_ _**bare hands**_ _. And that makes you feel_ _ **worthless**_ _. When you couldn’t stop me from being Supergirl, you got me to work for you. To retain some control. Those days are over._

But those days never ended. Here she is, years later, still working for them. Here Alex is, years later, trying to control her. They all play with the illusion that Alex is the older sister. Maybe it doesn’t feel as absurd then, when Alex tries to baby her. 

“I remember,” Supergirl says.

“What do you remember? Do you remember… the part where you said I killed Astra because deep down I hate you?” Supergirl feels her own heart pounding hard. “Or the part—” her words are muddled now, “where you said we’ve never been sisters?” Supergirl crosses her arms. “Because I remember all of that. I’ve never forgotten your voice, or your face when you said those words to me. But the thing you said that night— the thing that scared me the most was when you opened the doors to your apartment and you looked out at the city— as if it were… just another conquest for the taking. Do you remember?” Supergirl grits her jaw. “You said _Look at that city. They worship me. And those who don’t, will.’_ ” Alex takes a breath. “You’re scaring me. You have a cult now. I’m afraid they’re helping feed those delusions of grandeur you have. We can’t have you thinking that way. It’s dangerous for you to think that way.”

“Is that what you think?”

“You think you’re unstoppable.”

“It’s not a god complex, Alex. It’s a fact. But so long as we’re taking a trip down memory lane— do you remember when Mon-El first arrived? We were so worried about what he might be. Who he might be. And you were so worried— and you know what you said? _I can count the number of good aliens on one hand with two fingers to spare.”_ She looks at her. “So, that makes J’onn. Superman. Me— maybe, I’m not sure anymore. All those years at the DEO, and to you, it’s good aliens,” she lifts up three fingers, “and the rest are— what? Bad? Worth keeping contained for years with no trial date? The DEO is just one bad day from being Cadmus.”

“You’re out of line.”

“I have superhearing, Alex. I know what happens at the DEO. You don’t get to be a black ops operation if everything is above board. You don’t get to be at your rank without knowing.” She flexes her fingers. “I don’t want to work with the DEO anymore. I wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for you.”

Alex scoffs. “The feeling’s mutual.”

She wants to tell her that she never asked to be Supergirl. To have these powers. To be dropped off at the Danvers’ home, to be a Danvers. To have Alex go into the DEO for her sake. She doesn’t tell her that what J’onn did was manipulative. That he could have kept his promise to Jeremiah is some other way without derailing Alex’s life. But she thinks that Alex needs that resentment. She needs to have made that sacrifice. She needs to keep Supergirl at the DEO. What was it worth if Supergirl goes? If Alex isn’t needed? She’ll have sacrificed her life for nothing.

“So that’s it?” Alex asks. “That’s the plan? For you to leave the DEO?” Supergirl says nothing. “You need us, Kara. You may think you’re unstoppable, but if it wasn’t for us, you’d still be trapped by that Black Mercy. If it wasn’t for our resources you wouldn’t have found Coville.”

“If it wasn’t for Maxwell Lord we would have never known about the cult.”

“I can’t deal with you right now.” She wipes her face. “You trust him—”

“I _don’t_ trust him. I know he hates me. I know he’s sad he can’t develop kryptonite to kill me. But he’s right. If you’re really so worried about me— if you’re so worried about this other Kryptonian, you should find a way to get it back.”

Alex’s heart pounds. There’s a long silence. “What happened to _I save the world better when I save it with people?_ ” Alex asks. “Did you ever believe that?”

“Crime is down seventy-percent in National City. I did all of that _by myself,_ without risking DEO or NCPD lives. And instead of saying ‘hey, Supergirl, great work’, I get ‘you have a god complex’.” Supergirl opens the car door. “I’ll stop by at the DEO later to do your reports on whoever is killing people in National City. You can run your red kryptonite scan on me then.” She leaves the door open and blasts into the sky. 

X

Kara walked into L-Corp to see Sam gazing blankly into a computer screen, drawing upside down, squat triangles on a stack of spreadsheets. She flashed an embarrassed smile when Kara noticed. _My brain feels like it’s melting._ Sam told her.

_This is all the information Lena and I were able to pull about those affected._ Kara hovered over her shoulder watching her work. One of the chiclet keys, the letter R, had popped off the computer and sat to the side. Kara stared at the letter as Sam continued to enter addresses from school districts all over National City. _There has to me some way to narrow this down,_ Kara said. _This isn’t helping._

_I can pull up the bank statements of families affected?_ Sam suggested. Kara looked at her. _How?_ Sam pushed a few buttons. _Like this._ Kara took a breath, watching the records populate the screen. _Please don’t tell anyone I’m doing this,_ Sam said. Kara wasn’t sure whether to be alarmed or impressed.

“Hold still,” Alex tells her.

Supergirl holds still. The machine scans her, moving around her head. Supergirl watches the image manifest on the monitor. Her skull. Her brain. Portions of her brain are lit up. Alex looks from the screen, pushes a few buttons on the keyboard before standing in front of her with a mouth swab. 

“Open up.”

Supergirl does, lets Alex swab her cheek with cotton, presses her tongue to where the cotton fibers pressed. Alex dips the swab in a tube, sticks it into a whirry machine. Supergirl waits. She knows Alex won’t find any red kryptonite in her system. She thinks Alex would be grateful for an easy explanation. Supergirl slides off the examining table and plants her hands on her hips. Alex keeps her back to her. Supergirl hasn’t been able to shake off the mood of their earlier conversation. Maybe she is soft. Her phone vibrates, the third time this hour. “Can I go?”

“Not until I get the results. It’ll be a few minutes.”

Supergirl stares at her back, sharp in the DEO shirt. She taps her fingers on her hips. “What are you going to do if there _is_ red kryptonite in my system? You don’t have regular kryptonite. And I’d be too dangerous to let back out there.”

_Did I kill anyone?_ Those were the first words out of her mouth when the red kryptonite was out of her system. That was before the sobbing. She hadn’t killed anyone, but she had broken Alex’s arm. She hadn’t killed anyone, but she would have killed Alex if J’onn hadn’t stopped her. _Nothing in this world can stop me_ , she said. When she came back to the surface, she recalled that terror, of being under the thrall of watching herself do and say things that horrified her. Being unstoppable terrified her then. Now it makes her feel strong. That darkness is inside her. That possibility for destruction. 

Alex knows it too but says nothing. Minutes trickle by. Finally the machine makes a loud beep. It’s an ugly sound. Supergirl feels a pinch of nerves. Alex turns, arms crossed. “Looks like we won’t have to worry about it. You’re in the clear.”     

“That must be a relief.”

“That you’re not going to go insane and start killing people? Yeah. It’s a relief.” She pulls her examining gloves off and throws them into the bin. “You’re free to go.” Supergirl moves to the door. “Kara.” Supergirl scans the DEO. No one close enough to have heard. She knows they don’t have surveillance in this lab. She turns. “I was thinking about our conversation earlier. I know there’s a lot we haven’t talked about. Not just with Mon-El, but growing up together, and what it meant for us. I know you’ve sacrificed, too.”

Supergirl keeps her hands on her hips. She copied that stance from Alex. She never feels as powerful as Alex looks when she does it. “We don’t have to talk about it. You’ve tried to watch out for me. It’s fine.”

“It’s more complicated than that.” She taps the metal desk. The vibrations buzz in Supergirl’s ears. “I’m afraid,” she speaks slowly, “that if we don’t talk about this— _really_ talk about this. That it’s going to come between us. I don’t want this to fester until you hate me.”

“That’s not going to happen,” she says stiffly. She takes a moment.  “I know you want to take care of me. You want to fix it the way you always have. It’s not your fault. Eliza put you in that position. You were… my safe space on this planet, so I put you in that position, too. You made me feel normal for a long time, when everything was new and terrifying. I couldn’t have done it without you, but I know that I put your life on hold.” Alex breathes, thins her lips. “Neither one of us wanted this life. But enough time has passed, and things have changed. I can’t rely on you anymore. I have to find my own way.”

“You don’t have to be alone. Whatever you’re thinking— whatever you’re afraid to say, just _say_ it. Get it out in the open. That way we can move on.”

“But there is no moving on,” her voice echoes through the lab. “Don’t you get it? The DEO recruited you so they could keep an eye on me. So they could control me. And it works. They use you to keep me here. I don’t trust them. I don’t agree with them. I know why Superman refuses to work with them. I don’t care about the kryptonite,” she says with a shake of her head, “but— the way they approach aliens, _always_ guns first, never by— extending a hand. _That_ is the culture of the DEO. I know you love me. I know you think I’m not like _them._ And I hear the other agents here. They think I’m not like _them,_ either. I lucked out. I look human. I’m white and I’m blonde, and I have blue eyes. If you’re going to be an alien, that’s… more palatable, I guess.” She blinks her eyes, looks around. “I just… I don’t know what my role is here. I don’t want to be a weapon. My allegiance is not to the DEO, not to the United States; it’s to the world. It’s to anyone who needs help. And I know that doesn’t always align with what the DEO wants and what they think I should be. I can’t take my marching orders from the government. I can’t let them decide who is and isn’t worth saving. I go to who needs me, no matter what.” Alex stiffens her jaw, locks her arms. “But I do trust you. I was wrong not to tell you about whatever’s out there. I was … arrogant and I wanted to do it on my own and for that, I am sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“I appreciate that.” Alex moves closer. “I’ll work on not calling you unless … unless there’s no other way.” 

Supergirl nods. “I’d still like to visit my mom,” she says. “The hologram,” she says more quietly, cheeks reddening. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Thank you.” She licks her lips, unsure of how to express her gratitude. She settles a hand on her shoulder, gives it a light squeeze. It’s impersonal compared to their many hugs, to the times they’ve held one another crying, but it’s all she can manage. She feels shaky. 

Alex tries to touch Supergirl’s hand, but Supergirl turns and walks away.

 

X

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Kara smiles, hands in her jacket pockets. She's over an hour late. Lena waited at their bench, a book in her lap when Kara arrived with apologies. This work thing, that work thing. The usual lies.

_Frankenstein, huh?_

_So much for subtlety_ , Lena smiled, folding the book into her purse. _Shall we?_

They grabbed tea to-go from a nearby coffee shop and walked. They used to do this regularly. Once a week after they really became friends. Usually at night. Lena's a public figure, one routinely hounded by the press and paparazzi. _It’s nice to get away from it all,_ she told her one night. This is the first time they've walked in a year. She wonders if Lena thinks about that, too.

Lena wears jeans and a simple sweater. Her hair is loose, falling past her shoulders. She dons large, black wayfarer glasses. Her lips are the pale pink of rose petals, not that plum hue she wore when Supergirl saw her with Maxwell Lord. Lena calls the casual look ‘going incognito’. Kara would think it silly, but no one recognizes her as Supergirl and no one recognizes Lena in glasses and a humble wardrobe as Lena Luthor.

Sometimes Kara wants to tell her, how their legacies are alike. Kara Zor-El. L-Corp. Maybe just in sound, but she likes to believe that they both stand for hope. In this world. They stood against their family’s cruel legacies. They stopped Medusa together.

“Penny for my thoughts,” Kara says. “I was thinking of how long it's been since we went for a walk.” 

Lena looks to the street lamps above. The tree branches twined overhead. “Too long. But I'm happy we could make it out. I've been going stir crazy. So much work and it doesn't feel like enough. I'm restraining myself from demanding Sam provide me minute-by-minute updates.”

“Good. She's great and I doubt either one of us wants you to scare her away.” She’s still waiting to hear from Sam. “She really cares about what happens to L-Corp and to you. It's not just about the money.”

“I'm lucky to have found. But it's hard sitting back unable to take initiative. Some of my best scientists have already written, expressing trepidation. Hinting around about their contracts, you know?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means they're very poachable right now to the other research groups of National City. Their families are practically begging them to walk away from L-Corp. I can't say I blame them.”

“Where would they go? L-Corp’s the best game in town.”

“Sure, if you discount Lord Technologies.” She has a drink of tea. “Lord's ambitious and not shy about it. I can't imagine that kind of courage. He takes risks and his company makes boons because of it.”

“He does well. He's also... morally flexible. It's easier to be adventurous if you don't care about the ramifications. Caring isn't... so vanilla.”

Lena laughs.  “I think you're right. Caring takes an adventurous heart. Far braver than cool cynicism.” She smiles wryly. “To be fair, I was more cynical than not when I met you. Strange considering I met you alongside your friend Clark Kent. He never did take it easy on Lex. I guess he was right not to,” she frowns, thinking. “Still, it was odd to see the man that used to visit become Lex's most outspoken critic. He was right, of course, but it felt like a betrayal all the same. Family turning against family. I think he was as close to Lex as... well, as you are to me.” There's a lump in her throat. Lena hesitates, smiles, embarrassed. “Maybe that's presumptuous.” 

“I don't know what their relationship was like.” All she knows is she refuses to let herself and Lena be defined by it. “But— I do think of us as close.”

“I don't know what I would have done without you these past few weeks.” 

“You would have been fine. You got through a very exciting life before having met me.” Thirty some years. And still she's younger than Kara is. “And you came out great.”

She chuckles. “As it just so happens I think they broke the mold when they made you. Speaking of,” she sighs, “remember the Waterfront? God, that feels like years ago, now. The city has decided to give Morgan Edge that property. So,” she laments, “goodbye parks, and community centers. The land is officially his to build his obnoxious condos in. And whatever the hell Maxwell Lord wants it for.”

“Do you have any idea what Lord could get out of it?”

“None. I've rarely interacted with the man, and every time I do I understand him less.” Kara waits for Lena to mention that she saw him today. “I suppose he's simple in a way. He wants power and glory. He wants to be Lex Luthor without the Lex Luthor reputation. He’s just another man with a god complex.” A frown. “The less I have to deal with him, the better.”

“Has he proposed... anything to you?”

Lena looks at her, pulled from her thoughts. “Not really.” Kara nods, her stomach turning. _Seems like the sort of question close friends can talk about,_ Lord said. He’s messing with her. “Although, I am asking him to allow some of my workers to be at his lab, temporarily until this matter is resolved. The cure. Because it's not _just_ like lead poisoning. There's something off about it. I've been looking over the results and...”

She speaks at some length about it. Kara thinks of Alex, who spends too little time in a lab. Kara took that dream from her. The DEO took that dream from her. Eliza is always, in some ways, passively disappointed. 

“What do you think?” Lena asks. “On the one hand, I loathe the idea of him having access to any of my research. But on the other, I'm pragmatic. If I'm able to find a solution for this lead poisoning, there's no way anyone in National City would trust it from me. It makes sense to let him take the credit, give my workers a little breathing room and put the cure out to the masses. He would... double check to make sure everything is in place.” 

Kara squirms. Maxwell Lord poisoned her. But he also saved her after the fact. Helped save her from the Black Mercy, helped stop Myriad. But nearly blew up a train and airplane just to see what Supergirl might decide was worth saving. “I think...” she says slowly, “that you’re smarter than him and you should trust yourself. I'd put my life in your hands any day over Maxwell Lord.”

Lena takes a breath. “I'm not sure I would. Maybe before all of this.” She looks away from her, smile shaky. “Children are still dying. The hospitals are overwhelmed. Lead poisoning is so rare these days, no one's used to treating it anymore.”

Kara doesn't know how to bring up Winn. Technically Kara Danvers doesn't know the DEO exists. Even if she knows Lena knows the DEO exists. Kara Danvers only knows Alex works for the FBI, but nothing of what it entails. The mental gymnastics are exhausting. The DEO shouldn't be involved with any of this. Not at this stage. She rubs her eyes beneath the glasses. “Maybe that's true. But... he has spoken out against you.” And Supergirl. 

“And Supergirl. Don't get me wrong, I admire his business ingenuity, but I don't like him. That said, he's always had humanity's best interests in mind. He says we shouldn't rely on gods and aliens to save us, and I agree.” Kara is careful not to squeeze her cup tighter. “I don't think he would willingly harm children.” Just vulnerable, unconscious women. “If anything, he'd try to prop up his own reputation further so he could, you know, throw me under the bus.” 

“I don't doubt that.”

“But you don't agree overall.”

“I know that I trust you, and I don't trust him. You know, my sister Alex— she works for the FBI.”

Lena’s eyes fog. She knows the truth. She’s guarding Alex’s secret. “How could I forget. She did save my life.”

Kara touches her glasses. “Maybe she knows someone. A scientist. Through the FBI. If ... if you're really worried and need another pair of eyes.”

“I don't know, Kara. I don't really want the government getting involved in my research. It's too easy for them to take it over and... and twist it. That's what governments often do with scientific research. They weaponize it. And maybe the FBI wouldn't, but maybe another government agency would get involved. I'm not sure I can risk it. I want to stay as far away from that as possible.”

Kara scratches her eyebrow. She has no argument. “Right.” 

“How is Alex, by the way?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is she dating? Life in the FBI still keeping her on her toes?”

She shrugs a little. “How Alex is these days...” she takes a breath, “is sometimes a question I have.” They walk a bit in companionable silence. “I don't see her a lot.” 

“Did something happen?”

Kara doesn't know how to answer the question. “No. Well...” she sighs. “Nothing in particular. Do you remember when we met? You said you were just trying to make a name for yourself outside of your family. Maybe this is  me trying to do the same.” She has another drink of tea. Tea is always lukewarm to her. “When Alex dated Maggie. It was the first time she really took time for herself. She'd always doted on me because... I was younger and I’d lost my parents. It wasn’t easy in the beginning, but it wasn’t long before we were inseparable. When she went to college I was lost. It was one year, but it felt awful. But then I graduated high school and I joined her and it was better. It was the same. For me, anyway. But when she started dating Maggie… suddenly we didn't have all our nights together. All those times I expected her to be there, she wasn't. And I was happy for her, but I felt... so sad." She smiles, embarrassed. “And I felt awful about it, because finally she was taking this time. I didn't want to resent her for it. But I've always...” she spins the cup in her hand. “I've... always had a hard time at the thought of losing people.”

“I know what you mean. It must have been quite the change.”

Kara smiles at her. “Yeah. But I guess it made me realize how... not normal our relationship was. Not in a bad way... but it had become a crutch for me. I never needed to work through anything because Alex would do it for me. So now... I'm trying to find those boundaries. For the two of us. But ... it still feels awful sometimes, and I don't know if I'm doing the right thing.”

Lena nods thoughtfully. “Do you feel guilty?”

“Guilty?”

“Yeah. Like maybe you should take less time for yourself, be with her instead of me?”

She shakes her head. “I don't. Not in that way.” Even if she doesn't know what way she means. “Meeting you was new. It felt different than anything I'd ever known. Different than my other friendships. Like an adult friendship. With a clean slate. It ... felt like we were meeting on a level playing field. Even if I wasn't even a reporter and you were... you know, Lena Luthor. CEO genius billionaire.” She smiles but can't look at her.

“ _Lena Luthor: CEO genius billionaire_. Was that something Snapper cut out of that first fiery draft you wrote about me?” Kara laughs. “I sound amazing.”

“Yeah. You're not bad.” She smiles over at her. 

Lena smiles back. “I feel the same. First friend in National City. First friend ever, period. There was Jack...” her smile wanes. “I hope I'll be a better friend to you than I was to him.” She looks away, down at her hands, clears her throat. 

Kara isn’t sure whether she’s thinking of his death, or embarrassed at any romantic implication. Lena didn't tell Kara Danvers too many of the details of what happened that night. She told her she had to stop him. She left out that it was to save Supergirl. “I think ... it's hard to lose friends that are more than just friends.” Lena’s eyebrows lift gently. Oh. Maybe Lena thinks there was something going on with Mon-El. She wants to clarify but isn’t sure why. “But I think you honored your friendship with him in the best way you could. And I think he probably understood.” She remembers Mon-El nodding, touching her face, fingers falling away. _It's okay._

“It's hard to know what anyone thinks in their final moments,” Lena says. “But ... I guess the best we can hope for is understanding.” 

“Yeah.” They continue walking, reaching the Waterfront. The statue is still there, gleaming under the night lights. There are flowers on it. Little trinkets and cards. Kara looks away from it. She can't look at that stuff. She can't encourage it. It's too bad, that she can't tell what's from people who aren't cultists. 

“It's a bit like ancient Greece, isn't it? Statues of gods, plied with tribute. Of course, it works in reverse here, doesn't it? She saves lives and they offer their gratitude in return. It's not a pay for play kind of deal.”

Kara laughs stiltedly. 

“Still thinking about Alex?”

“A little, yeah.” She rubs the metal bar of the guard rail, smoothing her finger over it. “Part of me feels that I should really be there for her. She thought things were going to get serious with Maggie but then they didn't. And then I think... that they weren't together very long, but maybe that short period of time was enough. It's as long as I've known you.”

Lena pauses, the cup nearly to her lips before she takes a drink. 

“Of course they weren't together that entire time. And they’ve been broken up for much longer.” She frowns, thoughtful. “I wonder if I’ve been unfair to her. I've been so focused on... what happened with Mon-El that I haven't spoken to her about the breakup. I haven't spoken to Maggie about it, either. And once Maggie was out of Alex's life... I didn't pay as much attention as I should have. I don't think she really has anyone in National City. Nobody close to them died so I didn’t really think as much as I should have about what they could be going through. It all makes me feel... as if I'm very young and maybe not mature after all.” Shouldn’t she be, when she has the weight of the world on her shoulders? When she’s as old as she is?

“Losing friends is hard. We all get wrapped up in ourselves and lose our way. More than we know, sometimes. Look at what happened after Jack. I got drawn in by Rhea and…” She shakes her head. “I'd be devastated if I lost you.” She turns, facing the water, too, their shoulders touching. Kara glances at her before turning her attention back to the water. “But why does it make you feel immature?”

“I've never had romantic love.” She strokes her cup. “I've never been able to make it work.” She touches her glasses. “There have been crushes... and dates, kisses. Alex always picked my outfits out because I’m… hopeless.” She blushes. Lena smiles fondly. “But I've never had a relationship-relationship. No lovers.” She smooshes her lips thoughtfully. “I know that's weird at my age. Women my age are married and have children already.” She crosses and uncrosses her arms on the railing. “I just... I just think... that maybe I don't get it,” she looks at her. “That maybe sometimes I'm missing... very fundamental things.” 

Lena looks at her a long time. “But what do you think you're missing?”

Kara flushes, looks back at her, away, bows her head and smiles. “I don't know.”

“Maybe you haven't had every experience everyone has had. But we all meet milestones at different times. Sometimes not at all. I think your focus right now is on being good to your sister. Fair. And I think you have been that. I've never known you to not be the kindest human being I've ever met.” Kara smiles ruefully. “If Alex hasn't had those conversations with you— maybe she isn't ready. Maybe she doesn't want to put something else on you, I don't know. But she's a part of this relationship, too. You two are moving into... a different era. You're figuring it out. Both of you.”

Kara bites her lip, nods. “Maybe you're right.”

“Sometimes I am.” She touches her wrist, the contact sending a current through Kara. Lena meets her eyes. “Give it time.” 

“I will.”

“And for what it's worth? I think trusting yourself to not rush anything, just to have it done, just to be like everyone else? That's more maturity than most have. You're doing great. There's no rush.”

“Thank you.”

“Why?”

“For never making me feel like a weirdo.”

“We're all a little weird,” she smiles, adjusting her glasses. “But you're the only person outside of Lex to just take me as I am. No footnote or asterisk necessary.” She looks at the Girl of Steel statue. “Lex would hate that. It's beautiful, but I know him. He would trot the Cadmus line. Think I've betrayed him and am mistaking demons for angels.”

Lena isn't like Cat's son, Carter. Kara can't ask her what she thinks about Supergirl. It would be manipulative and invasive.  She doesn't know what to say so she says nothing.

Lena squints at the statue. “I have to move it. Edge wants it gone. I assume Lord is part of that decision. He's not a fan of Supergirl.” 

Kara waits for Lena to mention meeting Lord today, mention having seen Supergirl. Once again, she doesn't. Kara feels a trickle of panic, the one she gets every once in a while, those nightmares where Lena suspects and has caught her in lie after lie, letting them stack together like bricks to build a wall between them. “Where do you think you'll put it?”

“I don't know. Usually I’d throw up a poll on the L-Corp website or hold some meetings with city planning to get community input. But no one wants to deal with me right now. I’m poison to them. And I'm not fit to touch it.”

Kara bites the inside of her lower lip. “She's just a person.” Lena looks sidelong at her, back to the statue. She removes her glasses, wiping them, squinting at the statue. “Are those for show or do you actually need them?”

Lena laughs. “Believe me, I'm blind as a bat. I can barely make out your face, even from here. Want to try them on?” Kara freezes. “I try yours, you try mine?”

“Oh.” She smiles, rubbing her fingers. She used to do this all the time in junior high and high school. Where it didn’t matter. When she was a nobody. “I doubt they would look good on me.”

“I can't think of a pair of glasses you couldn't pull off. Plus, you should really look through them. Half of L-Corp's assets went into making the lenses that thin.” She holds them out. 

Kara takes them. Her face is flushed. She lowers her face in the darkness, slips her glasses off, tries Lena's on. She hates the fit. It's like taking her own eyeballs out and putting others in. She lifts her face and looks at Lena. “Well?”

Lena whistles. Kara laughs, looks away. “How blind am I?” Lena asks.

“Wow.” Kara says, even though she sees no difference. If Lena were the type, she could lie to her and Kara would never know. It's clear. It will always be clear. “These _are_ strong,” she lies.

Lena takes Kara's glasses. “They're heavier than you'd think,” she says with a smile, slipping them on. Kara hadn't known that. “And your vision is clearly better than mine because I still can't see a thing.” She strikes a pensive pose. “How do I look?”

Kara smiles. She nearly stammers. “How you always look.”

Lena bows her face, hiding her smile. She takes Kara's glasses off, and they trade, Kara shyly and covertly putting hers back on. “That's much better. I feel a migraine coming on. Let's never do that again.” 

“Deal.” They dump their cardboard cups of tea, and walk to the statue, Kara searching her messenger bag. “Do you need aspirin? I bought some, just in case.” Lena smiles, stretches her hand out. Kara drops two in her palm, buzzing pleasantly, happy to be useful. Even the pills seem to jangle cheerfully in the bottle. She wonders how Lena’s shoulder bruise is. She retrieves her bottle of water. Lena drinks, without wiping the rim of the bottle, offering a grateful smile before returning it. Kara has a drink too before putting it away. The base of the Girl of Steel statue is littered with flower petals and cards. “Do you ever read the letters?”

“They’re not for me. It may be out there in the open, but it wouldn’t be right.”

Kara strokes the messenger bag strap. “Do you think Edge will give you time before you have to move it?”

“I hope so. Frankly, it’s the least of my worries, and yet, here I am worried.” She crosses her arms, contemplating the statue. “Do you think you could talk to Supergirl?”

Kara grips the bag tighter, smiles quizzically. “Me?”

“I don’t have a way of getting hold of Supergirl. I’m not sure if I’m in her good graces right now. I want to do right by her.”

“But why wouldn’t you be in her good graces?”

There’s a beat. “Because of the lead poisoning. You see her more than I do. I hate to ask…” 

Kara sees the pain in her eyes. She parts her lips, guilt blanketing her again. “I’ll ask if I see her.”

“It won’t be any trouble?”

Kara shakes her head slowly. “No trouble at all. If I see her,” she adds again.

Lena smiles, grateful. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Kara nods, sees her own reflection, distorted in the gleam of steel. 

  

X

Sam takes the work home. She can have a glass of wine that way. Watch over Ruby as she sleeps, make sure she’s breathing. Ruby is breathing, even if Sam sometimes feels like she herself isn’t.

She works. Just a billion things to do, no big deal. Just a company that’s tanking under her care, no big deal. Just people flooding L-Corp with death threats, no big deal. _It’ll stabilize,_ Lena texted. _You’ve got this._

It doesn’t feel like she’s ‘got’ anything.

The _R_ is askance on the laptop keyboard. Continuing to pop up no matter how she presses it down. Sam continues poring over the bank statements. There are a lot of food trucks in National City. Was there something in the food people were eating? Or was there something in the water? A lot of these trucks were parked at the same pools. It’s a link she hadn’t considered before. She rubs her eyes, reaching over to the coffee table to grab her glass of wine. Okay, so if

The light of the kitchen buzzes overhead. Her eyes burn as if she’s been staring at the sun. There’s a black mark, like a scar, on the ceiling. She looks around, dazed. How has she not seen that before? She clambers onto the kitchen island and touches it. Smells it. It smells burned. Has Ruby been lighting matches? Is she trying to burn the goddamn house down? She presses her fingers to the black.

Soot comes away on her fingers.

Memories summoned. Chalk on her hands. A twelve year old in detention. The smell of sticky adhesive in her bedroom. The principal’s office. Patricia yelling at her in the car. _You have to stop drawing that thing, do you hear me?_ Anger verging on panic. _You have to stop._

Sam blinks. She’s walked from one end of the island to the other, drawn a long black line across the ceiling, one mark started slants to the side. She gets down and wets a dishtowel, trying to wipe it off. It smudges, leaving a trail like smoke. 

Her phone vibrates. Sam gets off the island, goes to the coffee table, picks up the phone. There are three texts from Kara Danvers. 

_10:01pm That’s great news! We should check it out!_

_10:30pm On second thought, I can go on my own. Can you forward me the address?_

_11:10pm It’s late and you’re probably busy. It’s a good start. Let’s talk when you have a chance._

Sam scrolls up through the messages and finds the one she sent.

_9:55pm_ : _I think I know where our lead problem may have originated._

Sam breathes out. Something else she can’t remember. She looks through her computer, finds several maps, handwritten notes that aren’t handwritten notes at all. They’re gibberish. Triangles, dashes, diamonds, circles. She sets the notebook down, her legs wobbling and goes to her bedroom. She pulls open the nightstand drawer. The broken bullet. She doesn’t want it to be there, but it remains, like her own tell-tale heart horror. She slams the drawer shut, exits the room.

Ruby’s door opens and she comes out, bleary and yawning. “What was that noise?”

“Go back to sleep,” Sam says without sparing her another look. Ruby does, shutting her bedroom door. Sam marches back to the living room. The walls are tight and pressing in. Color moves, too bright, transcendent, unnameable colors, like a heat wave. There’s a hum all around her, rising to a fever pitch. It’s inside her, crawling up, hot, like ants. She’s fuzzy and razor sharp in one. 

Too loud, too loud, too loud. This city. Fear. She smells it. Sin. It’s everywhere, begging to be eradicated. It calls to her like a radio frequency. She feels it in her teeth, it stretches out past walls, past doors, past the city lights to something further. 

Something is wrong. Her eyes shouldn’t see like this. Her ears shouldn’t hear this. She shouldn’t smell it. Her hands are bone. She pulls the chef’s knife out of the holder. Looks at the long, sharp blade, glinting under the yellow kitchen light. She has to make it stop. She doesn’t want to see. Her head isn’t real, it’s a battered drum. Her eyes are on fire. She brings the tip of the knife to her eye, hands firmly grasping the handle. She huffs. Huffs. She can’t see the blade. Can’t feel any horror. She has to cut her eyes out. Her ears off. Her nose off. There is no Ruby. There is no L-Corp. There is no Samantha Arias. Only this noise. Only these visions. This stench. If she cuts it out it will feel better. She huffs out one more time, and yanks back, plunging the blade into her eye.

Metal crinkles, loud as a derailing train. The handle snaps off, blade clattering to the floor, wrinkled into zig zags. It’s not real. Can’t be real. She falls to the floor, shaking fingers wrapping around the blade. She doesn’t bleed. The metal bends under her touch like wax. She squeezes her eyes shut, covers her mouth with her hand but no scream comes out.

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. _**This isn’t happening.**_

A calm pushes her under. Her heart rate slows. She breathes again. She removes her palm, slick with sweat and saliva, from her mouth. She picks up the mangled blade and handle from the floor, stands. There’s box from a recent tupperware order from Amazon. She wraps the knife in layers of newspaper and deposits it into the box, taping it shut. She throws on a hoodie and steps into Toms, taking the box outside to the garbage bin.

A neighbor’s out walking their doberman puppy. She pets the puppy, stroking his ears and his shoulders before bidding the neighbor and puppy goodbye and returning inside. She finds the notebooks with the Kryptonian writing: _From Rao’s fire you are born_. It’s not time yet. She shreds them, dropping them into the compost bin and dumping the remains of this mornings coffee and grounds on top of them.

She covers the bin. Her head itches. Takes the shoes off. Takes the hoodie off. Cleans the mess on the ceiling until it’s no longer there. Needs to get to the bullet, but She feels her fighting. No time. Gets to the couch. Touches the wine.

Sam breathes. Rubs her eyes. Her head is pounding. No more wine. She puts it back. She’s exhausted. She looks at her phone. Kara texted a while ago but her phone didn’t give her the notification. Sounds like she’s on board. That’s a relief. Sam fires off a text. _Let’s hit the ground running tomorrow._ Finally. Something good is happening. If they can take can take care of this, she can go back to her normal life. Sam stands, slaps the computer shut.

She walks to the bedroom. She wants to look in the nightstand drawer. Don’t look in the nightstand drawer. She doesn’t look in the nightstand drawer.  Go to sleep. She goes to sleep. 

 

 


	7. Calm

A/N: It's been 84 years. Sorry for the delay. Life! Hope you dragged all your goodies into your coffin for the afterlife.

* * *

 

Kara's working to recover the block of text she's deleted when the computer freezes. She stares at it, palming the side of the monitor before her hand goes flat. She cannot break another monitor. When did she last save? James walks into her office and closes the door.

“The computer just froze,” she tells him, more aggravated than she means to be. She has not been allowed to write the article on Morgan Edge’s acquisition of the Waterfront property. Instead, she’s been tasked with settling the ice cream versus gelato debate.

“Did you save your work?” he asks. She runs her hands back over her ponytail, unsure whether he's being condescending or knows her well enough to know she can be absent-minded. She restarts the computer. “I know exactly how long that computer will take to restart. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She laces her fingers anxiously on the desk. “Okay.”

He lifts his wrist and removes his watch. His beacon to her. She stops fidgeting. He studies the watch in his palm. “I've been thinking about our last conversation for a while. What Guardian means to me, and what Superman and Supergirl have meant to me. This has gotten me out of a lot of jams. Especially in Metropolis. When I moved here, Superman reconfigured it for you. He told me who you were. He wanted me to mentor you. But he knew the kind of danger that brings to someone who spends time with your family.” He sets the watch in front of her. “But we never asked. I didn't. He didn't. We decided for you. That when I pushed that button you would come to me.”

Kara looks at the watch, so much like a child's toy, in some ways. Flip the cover for a special surprise. Push the button inside and summon her. She doesn't know what to say. “You've had that for years.”

“I have. And it's time to give it back.” He slides his hands into his pockets. “You should decide who gets to call on you. Not me, not him.”

She frowns, staring at the watch, back to him. “Why now?”

“Because I've been Guardian for nearly two years. I can't be my own man and carry that around.”

“Asking for help isn't weakness, James.”

“I will never know who I am or what I'm capable of, so long as I have it. I can't say I can do it on my own and have a get out of jail free card.” He shakes his head. “I'm sorry if I made you feel like I was another fanatic, waiting to be saved by you.”

His faith scared her. She doesn’t want another friend to die. “I can't save everyone, but I want to help whoever needs me. That includes you.”

“I don't need your protection.”

Kara touches the strap of the watch. “Everyone needs my protection.” He turns. Kara stands. “Just because I'm strong doesn't make you weak. James— there was a time when I depended on you so much.”

“When was the last time you depended on me, Kara?” The calm of his voice gives away to bristling. “When was the last time that you came to me? I'm the one coming through your door. You don't need me anymore.”

She crosses her arms, stands on her toes, lets her weight fall onto the balls of her feet. She looks from the floor to him. “That doesn't make you less.”

“It makes me feel like less.” He touches the doorknob, voice mild again. “I didn't come here to have my mind changed. Supergirl isn't the only hero in National City. A lot of people depend on the Guardian, too.”

_Who?_ The computer comes back to life, the login screen dinging at her before proceeding to start updates. Approximately three hours remaining.  Maybe she can patrol while it finishes. “James… it feels like you want me to say that I approve of Guardian, but I don't.” He looks angry. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I don't need you to keep me safe.”

He exits, leaving the door open.

X

They’ve been eyeing the taco truck for the last twenty minutes. Sam returns with a menu. They recline against Maggie’s cruiser, Maggie leaning in to peer at the offerings in the dim light. Sam studies her. She’s tiny, but tough. She got shot and brushed it off. She sends texts, checking in, offers a number for survivors of gun violence.

Sam isn’t sure what she’d talk about. In the beginning everything was clear. Now, details of the press conference have blurred. There was gunfire. Blonde hair. There’s a crushed bullet in her nightstand. She survived that. She should tell her, but she’s afraid to tell her. She should tell her about the hallucinations, but she’s afraid to say that, too. She needs to talk to Patricia. She knows, logically, that she should be terrified. There’s something’s wrong with her. Maybe it’s a late onset of schizophrenia. But that doesn’t explain the bullet. Maybe she’s hallucinating the bullet. _So tell her. Say it out loud._

Maggie looks at her, smiles. Sam loses her train of thought. When she gets it back she isn’t sure she’s not on an entirely different track altogether. The sun is a blood red, dipping below the horizon. Sam hates the time change and early nights. Holidays are coming. She’s used to Thanksgivings on her own with Ruby. Lena likely is, too. Is there anyone Maggie goes home to? “You willing to bet our lives on the taco truck?” Sam asks.

“That depends on how hungry we get.”

Sam smiles. They've waited nearly an hour. It was light and now it's not. Parents who had milled around with their kids, have mostly gone. Sam wonders if they think they're a lesbian couple, waiting for their child. Sam’s glad she’s been too busy to bring Ruby here.

The payment histories of the affected families revealed that though the food trucks cycled through the pool areas and school districts, only the swimming pools remained constant. Barring any food poisoning, she suspects the food trucks are safe. It didn’t stop her from prowling through Yelp reviews. Outside of the usual complaints: not enough napkins, crap customer service, not as good as San Francisco’s so and so, she found nothing out of the usual. Maybe the paint is outdated. Or there’s something in the water.

“This is late.” Sam says. She already feels like she's playing hooky from L-Corp. When did playing Scooby-Doo become a relaxing past time? It feels like she’s been pulling double duty as CFO and CEO for years now, when it’s only been weeks. “And I've said that at least five times now and you still haven't complained. Think she got caught up at work?”

“She’ll be here.”

She sounds confident. “How long have you been friends?” ‘Friends’ might be a stretch. It isn’t a word that Kara herself used. She only said that Maggie dated her sister. 

Maggie folds her arms gently and looks around. “Not too long.” 

“She’s super sweet.”

“Kara has a good heart.”

“What’s her sister like?”

“Alex?” Her face is unreadable. “Alex is tough.” She smiles, bittersweetly. “But she’s sweet, too.”

Sam considers asking more, but doesn’t. Curiosity for curiosities sake isn’t worth much of anything. Especially when she’s asking about an ex. “Can I ask you something?” For the first time, Maggie looks apprehensive. “About the shooting.” She relaxes. “Did you ever find who shot you and Officer Donnelly?”

“Officers swept the area after, closed the block off and got as many eyewitness accounts as they could, but no credible leads.”

“God, that’s infuriating. I’m beginning to wonder if National City is safe to raise a kid. What’s the point of having Supergirl when crap like this can happen?”

“It’s the kind of thing that can happen anywhere. You read the news.” Maggie says. Sam frowns, browses the menu. “How’s Ruby been since Luke died?”

“Emotional and clingy. Poor thing. I wake up and find her there, making sure I’m still breathing.” She sighs. “I think she’s worried that something will happen to me and she’ll be on her own. What can I do to reassure her? She’s got no one.”

“She has you.”

“For now, until the next freak event in National City. She’s been so upset at being stuck with Ms. Queller, but I have to work. What’s the alternative, quit my job, move us out of our home, make her go to another school district, make new friends, start over? These weirdos with powers keep popping up everywhere.”

“I guess you have to do what you feel is best for her.”

“This _is_ what’s best. It’s just tough right now.” 

“Then you’ll ride it out. You’ve done it this long, and you raised a great kid. You know what would help?” Sam waits. Maggie taps the menu. “On me.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Maggie plucks the menu out of her hand. “I already know what I’m having,” she starts moving to the truck. Sam looks around for Kara, smiles and follows after her. “Think we’ll taste the lead?”

Sam isn’t sure if she thinks the joke is funny or not. “What are you getting?”

“I’m having one of each. Carnitas, barbacoa, baja fish.” They watch a few patrons walk by, the small tacos in to-go containers. “I could go for a beer.” 

“You don’t drink on the job?” She stands beside her at the line. “I guess you’re a detective, not a private eye.” 

“They don’t drink on the job, either.” Maggie studies the menu, lifting it to Sam between two fingers. 

Sam takes it, giving it one final look over. “I think I’m going to copy your order. Though I wish we could go for a beer, too.” They get to the window and order. Maggie switching to conversational Spanish, smiling more than Sam’s used to seeing. She pays and orders two bottles of water. They stand to the side and wait for their food. “You’re interesting.”

Maggie looks at her. “I’m interesting?”

“You’re a homicide detective, but you spend a lot of time running around with a mild-mannered reporter. Are you even on the clock right now?”

She considers how to answer that. “Not technically.”

“So?”

“So I have nothing better to do. I could be at a dive bar,” she says, brow furrowed in thought, before she shakes it off. “If you two find anything, I can make sure it’s on the up and up. We shouldn't risk what we may find.”

Sam mulls it over while Maggie gets their tacos from the window. She hands Sam her three and they return to the vehicle, balancing their water bottles on the roof of the car. They spend the next moments eating. There’s a story on NPR about a robber who was found in an alleyway with his neck snapped, head nearly twisted off. _That guy robbed me months ago. I’ve been having nightmares. It wasn’t just my phone and wallet and watch. I didn’t feel safe anymore. Supergirl wasn’t there. Supergirl didn’t help me. I don’t think that guy should be dead or anything— but he’s not going to be out there terrorizing people. We’re going to be safer. Maybe I’ll finally start getting some rest._ The story moves on to Supergirl catching a collapsing overpass. The media is on the scene now. “These are amazing,” Sam tells her, devouring the barbacoa taco before moving on to the next. “Next time, it’s on me.” She picks up the baja fish taco and has a bite. If lead is the secret ingredient, she’s a convert. 

“Next time?”

“This crisis or that crisis.”

Maggie smiles, eats. 

“Thanksgiving’s coming up. What do you usually do?”

“Work.” Maggie has another bite, half rolls her eyes. “Don’t give me that look.”

“What look? Workaholic.”

“Says the woman working two eighty hour a week jobs.”

Sam wipes her lips with the napkins. “Why don’t we give work a rest, and you join me and Ruby for Thanksgiving? I’m inviting Lena, too. It’s usually just Ruby and me. We have way too many leftovers. Obviously Kara’s invited— but I figured she has family plans?”

“They usually do a big thing,” she says a little absently. Sam wonders if she’s sad. “But I wouldn’t let that stop you from asking. And you should ask Lena first, before you formally invite me.”

“Why? This is the formal invitation. My house, my Thanksgiving. You’re here trying to clear her name. We’re all adults.” She has a bite of the carnitas taco, wondering if she’d be as easygoing if she’d been there at the time of Lena’s arrest. Lena’s let it go. She should, too. “She invited you to girl’s night. You don’t have to answer now, and it’s okay if you can’t or don’t want to make it— or even if better plans come up— but think about it?”

Maggie nods slowly. Kara comes rushing over from out of nowhere, dusting off her shoulders, looking frazzled. “You got tacos? Those smell amazing.” She looks at their food, to the taco truck. “I’m sorry I’m late,” Maggie eats without paying Kara any attention outside of an acknowledging glance, “there was— a— um, last minute. Work thing. And,” she reaches into her bag and pulls out a device that—

“What is that?” Sam asks. It looks like a gun grip with a straw attached.

“It’s from my friend at the FBI. He used to work at CatCo.”

“That’s a career change,” Sam says.

“He was always a little too smart to be at CatCo,” Kara exhales breathlessly. “Not that the rest of us aren’t. It’s… just a little doohickey he came up with. I was telling him about this situation with Ms.— with Lena. It can help analyze water purity. I mean— just in case we happen to need it. I thought it might help.” She looks at Maggie. “I hope you haven’t been here too long.” 

“We just got here,” Sam says. Maggie smiles.

“What a relief,” Kara brightens. “Well— since you just got here, do you mind if—” she looks to the truck. 

Sam and Maggie shake their head and she goes, with promises to return promptly. They watch her go, exchange smiles. “She always smells so good,” Sam says.

Maggie glances at her. Sam flushes, not sure how to explain. It isn’t her perfume or shampoo. It’s her scent. She smells like a delicious meal when you’re starving. It’s an intrusive thought. Something she doesn’t believe or agree with, but something that’s there. 

Kara returns with two tacos and churros to share. She hands them over to their thanks. “I got the churros dipped in chocolate. I didn’t even know people did that,” she begins on her tacos, while Maggie and Sam try to wrangle the unwieldly churros. Maggie breaks the tip of hers off, eating a piece at a time while Sam bites directly into hers. The chocolate is good. Sam likes Kara more and more. “So,” Kara says, swallowing, looking around. Maggie offers her her water. Kara smiles, drinks, setting the water bottle back on the top. “I was so hungry. What’s the plan?”

Maggie looks at the sugar and cinnamon on her fingers, tries to shake it off before resorting to bringing the tips of her fingers to her mouth. “We take a look around— and we’d better do it soon because they’re staying open a little later for us to do that.”

Sam smiles at Kara. “Inviting Maggie was smart. She flashed her badge and put on her serious voice and they were way more willing to give us the extra time we needed. Much better than my initial plan to break and enter.”

“That’s a joke, right?” Maggie looks at her, quizzically. 

“Can I hear the serious voice?” Kara asks Maggie, having finished her tacos and starting on her churro, sprinkling sugar and cinnamon over her fingers as she eats. “Oh, I’ve heard it.”

Sam realizes she must mean the night of the arrest. “You’re in a good mood tonight,” she tells Kara. Kara looks at her. “It’s nice. Everything’s been awful and we’ve all been serious for so long. This one will probably remain serious,” she says with a cock of her head to Maggie, “but this is good! We’re hanging out, eating great food, you’re smiling.” Kara gives a small smile. “If Lena were here it’d be perfect. It could be that long delayed girls’ night.”

“Lena can’t be here,” Maggie says. “It’s not just the general population that distrusts her, it’s most of NCPD, too,” she looks apologetically at Kara. “And it’s best not to get her hopes up if this doesn’t pan out. We still don’t know that it wasn’t the lead bomb.” Sam and Kara protest. Maggie shrugs. “I want us to find something to clear her name, but we have to be realistic.”

“There’s the rain on our parade we’ve been waiting for,” Sam says. 

“But she’s right,” Kara’s serious again. She finishes her churro and takes the wax paper from all of them, crumpling it in her hands. “I want us to clear Lena, too. And yes, the thought put me in a good mood. I want things to feel better for her. And for you too, Sam. I know everything that’s happened has really impacted your life.”

“I’m not going to deny that I’m dying for things to get back to normal.” Sam wipes her fingers on a stray napkin. “But it’s been hit after hit for Lena. She could use a win.”

“I hope we can find that here. Let’s head in,” Kara says. 

They dump their trash and move to the swimming pool building. The smell of chlorine hits Sam as soon as they enter. It’s so strong it makes her eyes water. Maggie talks with the pool attendant, getting her pocket notebook out and scribbling. Kara looks around, tinkering with her glasses. 

“What are we looking for?” Sam asks. “That chlorine smell is giving me a headache. I didn’t remember it being this bad as a kid.”

“Did you swim a lot when you were younger?”

“Patricia would bring me Mondays and Wednesdays. It used to be my favorite part of the week. I would go in the water, and try to hold my breath as long as I possibly could. Scared Patricia half to death most of the time.”

“Eliza would bring me Tuesdays and Thursdays. I would pretend I was in underwater kingdoms and could speak to the sea animals. Alex was mortified.”

Sam grins. “Wow.”

“I was twelve, and weird,” she smiles before stopping. She frowns at the water. She takes out her little FBI device. “I’m going to check this out.” She dips the straw in the water. In the distance she can hear the pool attendant asking Maggie what Kara’s doing before Maggie reorients him. _Don’t worry about what she’s doing, worry about the questions I’m asking you._ Sam smiles, thinking she’d hate to be on her bad side. Kara gets on the phone. Her voice isn’t soft anymore. “Winn. Hey. Yes. I’m fine. Yes. I used that device you gave me. I’m sending you a sample now.” She listens, nods, nods, nods, nods. “Winn, that— Let’s not talk about that right now. I just want you to tell me what it says.” She jacks the device into her iPhone’s charging port. 

“Wow. We really are in the future,” Sam says.

“Okay, but what does that mean?” Kara asks. “Is it lead?” A beat. “What does _that_ mean?” Kara looks at her, eyebrows shooting up. _What?_ Sam asks. “So it wasn’t the lead bomb?” Sam holds her breath. Waits. “Okay. _Thank you, Winn._ ” She hangs up, takes a deep breath. “It wasn’t Lena. Someone put a dangerous chemical compound in the pool.”

“All that from that device?” Sam blinks. “That’s great news. But a chemical compound— How?”

She follows Kara to Maggie. 

“We tested the water,” Kara says. The pool attendant’s face twists in anger. “With that device from the FBI,” Kara adds. “There’s lead in the water. Someone’s poured chemicals into the pool— it synthesizes into lead and mimics the same effects of lead poisoning.”

The attendant stills. “Are you accusing us of putting lead into the water? Poisoning children? You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m not—” Kara starts.

“Hold on,” Maggie says, looks to the attendant. “Have you put _anything_ in the water?”

“The standard chlorine. Like every other pool. Nothing else.”

“Show me.”

The attendant leads them to a storage room. Stacks of Acre Lee Chemical barrels sit in the room. Maggie launches into another set of questions with the pool attendant. “Acre Lee Chemical. Have you ever heard of that?” Kara asks Sam quietly.

“It sounds familiar.” She pulls her phone out. “Let me see what I can find.”

“Hey, Kara,” Maggie says. She’s pulled on a pair of gloves and pried one of the lids of the buckets open. “Think your FBI device can run a scan on this to determine if it’s standard chlorine?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she rushes over, playing with the device again. The pool attendant is asking to talk to an attorney while Maggie reassures him he’s not under arrest and would appreciate his continued cooperation. Kara’s on the phone again.

Sam runs through the website of Acre Lee Chemical, trying to determine who heads the company. It’s been under new leadership for seven years, but the website is outdated. She texts Lena. _Sorry to bother you, but does Acre Lee Chemical mean anything to you? I can’t remember where I’ve read it._ She thinks it was during her orientation at L-Corp.

Maggie looks away from the buckets and the pool attendant to Sam. “Hey, this is officially an investigation. If you’re thinking of contacting anyone, don’t.”

Sam sighs inwardly. Lena texts back. _Why?_ Sam considers responding. Stows her phone instead, settles her hands on her hips. 

Kara gets off the phone. “Not standard chlorine,” she says.

Maggie lifts her head, rubs the back of her neck. “I’m going to need a list of your product orders,” she tells the attendant. “Call the manager and get them here if need be. This may be a mixup, but we need to be sure.” The pool attendant runs off to an office. “This is going to be a long night. I’m going to try to get a warrant for the other pools visited by affected children. And no offense, Kara, but your experimental device isn’t anything standardized to admit in court, so I’m going to have to call in the science division team at NCPD to go over all of this. If we find this stuff at the other pools, we’re going to have to send out a public notice to warn them. It’s going to be a nightmare.”

“Can I tell Lena?” Kara asks.

“Not yet. We have to do this by the book, but the good news is that testing this ‘chlorine’ at the other pools shouldn’t take too long once we have our warrants. I don’t anticipate we’ll have trouble getting them. But if we find this stuff at the other facilities? She’s as good as cleared.” Kara lights up, breathes, hands on her knees. Maggie smiles. “You did good.”

“ _We_ did good,” Kara says, standing straight again. “Sam was able to track down this location, and Winn gave me this device and you’re making sure this is all by the book—” Her words are wobbly, eyes are wet with happy tears she blinks away. “We’re going to clear her. She didn’t do this.”

“Not Lena Luthor, not Supergirl,” Maggie says with a nod. Sam grins. Kara looks emotional. She beams.

“Move over Charlie’s Angels,” Sam says. “We’ve got the dream team right here.”

Maggie smiles, shaking her head. “I just need you two to answer a few more questions and then you’re good to go. NCPD can take over. We’ll hold a press conference with any findings we have.”

“Okay. Thank you,” Kara says.

Sam watches Kara, moved at how emotional she is at clearing Lena’s name. Lena’s lucky to have a friend like her. Maggie runs through the questions, Sam fidgeting when she asks how exactly they were able to narrow down this location as a possible contamination zone. She sees her unease, Sam knows it, but moves past, despite the suspicion. Minutes later, they’re done. Maggie puts her notepad away. “I’ll let you know as soon as I can when you can let Lena know the good news.”

Sam smiles, squeezing Kara’s arm gently. “Looks like the long nightmare is finally coming to an end.”

Kara smiles back, her energy settling back into that calm Sam’s used to. “Finally.”    

 

X

Kara sits opposite the coffee table in her apartment, staring at the obelisk Coville gave her. When she was a child she would sit in her father’s lab, as he prepared artifacts to be sent out into space. They would provide information about the culture and history of Krypton, so other races throughout the galaxy could find and understand them. It would, he told her, promote peace throughout the galaxy. She thinks peace means something different depending on whom you ask. Her notion of peace isn’t the same as the DEO’s or even her parents. Astra and Non thought Myriad would bring peace to Krypton and Earth. Her parents thought Medusa would keep Krypton safe. Rhea thought subjugating and enslaving Earth would bring peace to the planet. Lillian and Lex Luthor think ridding the planet of aliens will bring the people of Earth together as the rightful rulers of the planet.

Kara doesn’t know where she’s from anymore. She escaped the Black Mercy and chose Earth. This is her home now. It will always be her home. She was raised here even if she’s not from here. Even if she’ll always be Kryptonian. She touches her necklace, wonders if her parents would be ashamed. Has she lost her way? Coville said she has. He wants to help her, but he can’t. He’s a human playing at being Kryptonian. She sighs, lies down on the floor, obelisk in hand. She stares at the watch on her wrist. There were times she considered asking James to return it, but it always made her feel guilty. Maybe he’s right and he doesn’t need protection. Has she been overbearing? Condescending? No. Humans are paper thin, at least when it comes to Kryptonians. 

Rao, she hopes there isn’t another Kryptonian out there. But if there is… there’s something wrong with him. Violence for violence’s sake. Why surface now? Did they hide all this time or arrive the way she and Mon-El did? Was their pod knocked off course? Maybe they’re lost, too. Maybe they’re scared to be on a new planet and they don’t know what they’re doing. Don’t understand their powers. She doesn’t believe in people being evil for the sake of being evil. That’s shortsighted and simplistic. Whoever’s doing this has to be stopped, but maybe they need help. Maybe she can help him.

What would her mother do with someone like that? Sentence them to Fort Rozz. But she also sent people there, unfairly and they came out worse than before. She isn’t sure what’s right. Who is she to decide?

She retrieves a cushion and sits on it, setting the obelisk back on the coffee table. She closes her eyes. She’ll meditate. She used to on Krypton with her mother. She was blind then. Her parents shielded her from the truth. It wasn’t until Krypton started coming apart that she experienced hardship. She was sent here to watch Kal. She promised to watch Mon-El. She wonders if it hurt.

She breathes out. This isn’t working. Her thoughts drift but she can’t let them go without them hooking into her. She spoke with Lena earlier. Four days after their discovery at the pool, and Maggie gave her the go-ahead. The press conference is due to start in a few hours.

Lena was in the lab. Kara considered going directly to her but couldn’t wait and called instead. The phone rang for what seemed like forever. Finally Lena picked up.

_Kara! I was just thinking about you._

_You were?_

_That’s not so strange, is it? I was thinking of our talk the other night, and your advice about Lord._

_Oh. Did you come to a decision?_

_I’m approaching one._ She hesitated. _Kara, I’m getting closer to finding the antidote, but I think when it’s done, I’m going to leave it to Maxwell Lord to disseminate. I don’t care how it happens. I don’t care if he takes the credit— I just want to help the people who need it._

_But that’s what I’m calling about!_ Kara said. _Lena— Sam, Maggie and I were able to track down the origin points of the lead poisonings. It wasn’t you._

That was the first big silence. _What?_ her voice sounded small.

_A few days ago we went to the swimming pool where most of the kids and elderly people got sick,_ the words spilled out of her, nearly tripping over them in her excitement to tell her. _I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner, but Maggie wanted to make sure that we could pin everything down first and now the NCPD has. The pools were contaminated with a chemical that synthesized into lead when it touched water—_

_It wasn’t the bomb? It wasn’t me?_

_No. Lena. It wasn’t you. You’re innocent. I knew it, now NCPD knows it, and soon all of National City and the rest of the world is going to know it, too._ She listened to her breathing on the other end of the line. That was the second silence. _Lena, are you okay?_

_Sam texted a few days ago about an Acre Lee Chemical. Is that what was in the water?_

_Yeah, do you know it?_    

_No._ Her voice was different. _Kara— thank you for the wonderful news. But there are still a few things to wrap up on this end. Talk later?_

_Of course. I’m really happy for you._

_Bye._

There had been the creep of ice in Lena’s voice, the throaty suppression of emotion. That was hours ago. Kara expected it would go differently. That she would be happier. It’s possible she’s in shock. It’s probably too soon to check in on her. She sounded preoccupied. She doesn’t want to be overbearing. James thinks she’s overbearing. Kara thinks Alex is overbearing. Why does everything always feel so confusing?

She stands, stretches, thinking the meditation won’t take tonight. She stares at the blank canvas on her easel. It’s been over a year since she’s painted. All her attempts have failed. This is the same blank canvas she’s stood before. She moves away from it, not as far as she usually gets. She broke out no paints, sorted no brushes. 

Supergirl takes to the skies, longing for purpose. She finds petty crime. Bullets fire at her. Sometimes she thinks they want to test if she really is faster than a speeding bullet. If the bullets will bounce. Her life must seem cartoonish to them. Maybe they wonder if they’ll be the ones to make her bleed. Would that make them the Chosen one? She’s a contradiction, always bored and never without something to do.

She flies high, closes her eyes, floats. The air is fresher here. If she focuses, she can feel air currents threading through her fingers. The violent winds feel like a calm breeze to her. It’s never quiet unless she forces it. She listens to the city, her white noise. Maybe she can meditate here.

   Hears metal clank. Footsteps. A cargo plane. _Mayday. Mayday. Can anybody hear me?_ The hair on the back of her neck stands on end. Lena. She hears other cries in the city. People who need her. Feels everything closing in around her. The stars. It’s supposed to be safe here but her lungs are constricting. She can’t have a panic attack in the sky. She’ll fall. The fall will kill her. Lena’s voice continues to come in. She’s frantic. _Get it together, Supergirl._

She hones her hearing. She can’t contact Maggie now. She turns on her earpiece and contacts Winn.

_Yo!_ His cheerful voice comes on over the comm. _Long time, no hear._

“Winn, Lena’s in trouble. She’s on a cargo plane somewhere. But I heard gunshots in the city.” She tells him the address. “You need to send the NCPD an alert and get them there now—”

_Lena’s on a cargo plane?_

Supergirl disconnects and hurtles through the sky. The air is molasses. She’s too slow. Feels too slow. Her heart is punching its way out her throat. The skies billow with fat clouds. She rips through them and finds the plane in the night sky. Rain starts to fall. The cargo door is open. She flies inside, skidding several feet before stopping herself. Lena looks like she’s about to fall out of the airplane. 

Supergirl takes hold of the lever for the cargo door, yanking it shut. The red emergency lights spin, the door beeping loudly as it closes.

“Supergirl,” Lena says breathlessly. She’s frazzled, her hair in a messy ponytail.

Turbulence shakes the plane. Crates spill over, swinging wildly across the floor. Lena loses her footing, goes stumbling. Supergirl bolts to her, careful when she wraps an arm securely around her, careful when she presses her to the plane wall to keep a crate from crushing her. “Ms. Luthor. Are you all right?”

Lena stares at her, chest heaving. “He’s going to sink this plane. He’s going to sink it into the ocean and poison countless people.” 

Supergirl turns her head, sees the stockpiles of Acre Lee Chemical. Her lips thin. She can’t think about it now. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

 The next moment the plane is nosediving.

X

The plane fractured. One half fell into the ocean, the other half sits beside them on a small island, the barrels of Acre Lee Chemical glinting in the rain. Glinting to Supergirl, anyway. It's pitch black and she's sure Lena can’t see a thing. She's taken shelter beneath a plane wing. 

Supergirl collects enough trees to stack together, setting them aflame with heat vision. She hates doing this kind of thing in front of Lena, who is so good at making Kara Danvers feel normal. 

Supergirl sits next to Lena. They're both soaked. Supergirl won't get sick but Lena might. “We’ll go soon, Ms. Luthor.” It took too long to find an island. The metal of the plane was readying to give by the time they landed. It was more clumsy than heavy, even if her arm feels a gentle soreness from transporting it. “I wish I hadn't had to carry you that way.” She made Lena jump from the plane before it fell into the ocean, took her arm. The rain made her grip tenuous. Lena’s arm must hurt. “How do you feel?”

“More afraid of heights than ever,” she looks at Supergirl in the firelight. “But I’m safe. I never dreamed you'd come. How did you find me?”

“I heard your voice.”

“My voice?” Lena looks at her, away, bows her head and smiles. “Lucky me.” She rubs her arms covertly. 

Supergirl swallows. “I've been told my cape is warm.” Lena looks at her. Is she looking at her because of the offer, or what her wording implies? “If you'd like to use it for the time being.”

“I couldn't.”

“Please.” She shifts, detaches it and wraps it around Lena's shoulders, smoothing her fingers over her shoulders. “I'll need it later. It helps my flying.” She can practically hear Alex and James telling her not to reveal that. “But it should help keep you warm for now.”

“The fire’s already helping.” Lena touches the material of the cape experimentally. “Wearing this doesn’t feel right.”

Supergirl picks up one end of the cape, helps cross it over Lena’s torso to the other side. “Why not?”

“It’s not obvious?”

“No.”

Lena looks at her a while. Supergirl isn’t sure what she’s thinking. “You're not cold?”

She doesn't get cold, physically. She doesn't want to tell her. “I’m okay.” She wonders if the situation she directed Winn to is okay. She hopes so, but knows that Lena would have died if not for her. She’s glad she came. “How did you get on that plane, Ms. Luthor?”

“We’re still at ‘Ms. Luthor’ after all this time? You’ve saved me more than enough that we should be on a— Well. I suppose I’ll never be on a first name basis with you.”

Supergirl hesitates. “Lena, then.” Lena smiles. “How did you get on that plane, Lena?”

Her eyes cloud, gaze returning to the fire, hands lightly resting on her arms. “I wish I knew. I woke up and I was in the middle of the ocean on an unmanned plane.” 

Supergirl watches the light dance on her face. “What was the last thing you remember before you woke up on that plane?”

Lena pulls a little closer to herself. The rain continues to fall, the waves of the ocean rushing to shore. Supergirl looks around. Everything remains secure. “I’d gotten off the phone with a friend, Kara,” she says slowly, “who told me I wasn’t responsible for the rash of lead poisonings in National City after all. They were the work of a chemical. My CFO had texted about an Acre Lee Chemical a few days prior… I later realized that company was once owned by Morgan Edge.”

Supergirl tries to ignore the knot of dread. “Then what happened?”

“I went to Edge Global to speak to him.” She frowns. “And…” she sighs softly, touches the back of her head. “And I’m guessing someone there knocked me out mid-conversation.”

“You were hit?”

“I believe so.”

Supergirl scoots closer. “Let me see. Please.” Lena nods, turns. Supergirl sees the knot on the back of her head. Grazes her fingers over it. Lena hisses softly. “Sorry,” Supergirl mutters. “We should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”

“I’m okay.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist, Ms. Luthor.” A beat. “Lena.” Lena relents. Nods. “What were you hoping to accomplish by going to see Edge?” She asks. Her anger mounts. What if she hadn’t heard Lena’s voice? What if Edge had killed Lena? The anger is rising hot inside her. She shoves it down.

“I wanted him to confess. He killed children and tried to pin it on me. Forget what I’ve gone through, how I’ve hated myself. _He killed children_ _ **to mess with me**_ _. To enrich himself. To acquire property.”_ Her voice is a low growl. “He’s a monster. A long prison sentence is the very least he deserves.”

“A long prison sentence is all he deserves.” Supergirl crosses her arms over her knees, twines her fingers to stop them from shaking. “He put you on that plane to kill you and tarnish your name. And despite that you would have died to save National City. You would have let him win.”

“He wouldn't have won. Lives would be saved, and you'd be there to tell my story and expose him.”

Supergirl’s heart thumps hard. What does she mean by that? Kara Danvers is the one who writes Lena's vindication pieces. It means nothing. She's being paranoid. “But you'd be gone.”

“An easy trade.”

“Not for me.”

Lena lifts her eyebrows, parts her lips. “This cape _is_ warm.” Supergirl smiles a little. “Do you ever think about death?”

“Yes.” Not her own. Others.

“Me too. Often. It's always around the corner for me. This assassin, that assassin, angry mother, Mother, Mother’s henchmen, men. If I’m going to die, I'd rather die doing something good. I don't believe in the afterlife. I think when you die; you rot. The worms eat you. Maybe then you return to the earth. That's as romantic as I can get about it. I don't think you meet your loved ones, or find peace. I think those last breaths you take, your thoughts, that's what you go with.” Supergirl thinks of Astra. “Dying to save others? I can think of no better death. Maybe that would start to change the Luthor reputation.”

“You've already changed the Luthor reputation. By doing the right thing and never backing down when it's hard.” A jitter moves through Lena. Maybe she’s unused to praise. “Everyone talks about me like I’m a hero but… what am I risking? I don’t hurt.”

“I don't believe that.”

“I don't bleed. Every sacrifice humans make on this planet is a bigger risk than I ever have to take. Everyone loves Supergirl. But being more makes her sacrifice less.”

“That's not true. I've seen you charge in to danger. I know what kryptonite does to you. And you've braved it time and again to get to me. Not to mention what being Supergirl does to your personal life.” Supergirl looks back at her. “You must work, have relationships. I imagine you don’t live and sleep in that outfit. It must come off.” Supergirl blushes, looks away. “You make a great sacrifice. I was starting to think our time was done. The era of Supers and Luthors. I thought the lead bomb might have been the last straw.”

“I won't ever give up on you.”

“Why not? I gave up on me after those kids died.”

“Because people like us need to forge the way forward. People look at us and expect things to play out the way they have for Lex and Superman. But you are not your brother and I am not my cousin. I trust you. And I hope you trust me.”

“With my life.”

“And I trust you with mine.”

“You do?” She smiles. “Wow.” She takes a deep breath.

Supergirl smiles. “I think if we keep trusting each other, things can only get better.”

 “I’m dying for ‘better’. It's been a hard couple of weeks.”

“It won’t happen right away. It might be a while before some people come to trust you again. Some never will. You probably read what happened to me before you moved to National City. A synthetic kryptonite made me sick and violent. It wasn't for very long but it was long enough to ruin the reputation I'd worked so hard to build.”

“What did you do?”

She smiles, laughs a little. “I cried, a lot. But once I stopped feeling sorry for myself, I got back out there. It was awful for a long time. I was in such a hurry to get back into everyone's good graces. I helped families build IKEA furniture and … read bedtime stories to children. The parents that would let me. I wanted everyone to hurry up and forgive me. But you can’t force forgiveness.” Lena’s eyes shine. “Not everyone did forgive me. Some people are still afraid of me. But eventually it got better.”

“But you had that Super reputation to fall back on. The Luthors have no good will.”

“But you do. And I’ll vouch for you, always.”

Lena’s expression softens. She’s quiet a long time. “You’ve given me so much kindness. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it.”

“Everyone deserves kindness.” The wind is starting to pick up. She stands. “We should get going. You’ll get sick if we stay much longer.”

“Wait.” Lena looks up at her. “Did Kara speak to you? Morgan Edge wanted me to move your statue from the Waterfront.” She grimaces. “I wanted it there to turn it into a community park, but I’m afraid the property’s been given to Edge given the allegations against me. I’d like to pretend that having my name cleared and holding him responsible will be enough to withdraw the land from him, but that might be optimistic and I’m not that. Where should it go?”

“I’ll support where ever you think it should go.”

“You’re no help,” she tells her lightly, the cape falling away from one of her shoulders. Supergirl smiles, leans down and extends her hand. Lena takes it, but Supergirl isn’t sure whether it’s lightly or not. It’s harder to relax as Supergirl, when she’s on guard. Things register differently. Pressure. Tenderness. Supergirl is still as Lena uses her immobility to get to her feet. “This cape _is_ incredible.”

The rain is dying down but it still falls. Lena’s hair has curled in the rain and humidity, wavier than Supergirl’s ever seen it. “I like it, too.”

Lena carefully loosens the cape, stands in front of her. “Stand still.” She swoops it around Supergirl’s back. “You look so dignified when you wear it. I know you don’t just stuff it in at the shoulders.”

Supergirl shakes her head gently. “It attaches. Here,” she lifts one of the edges of fabric along her shoulder.

“Oh, I see. May I?” Lena asks. Supergirl clears her throat. Nods. Lena stands on her tiptoes, squinting before hooking the cape in, latching the button into place. She does the same to the other side, breath along Supergirl’s neck as she fidgets with the cape. “Oh, come on, you little—” A satisfying click. “Got it!”

“Good work.”

“Now you’re just teasing me.” She keeps an arm hooked around her neck, the other hand touching the shoulder where she clasped the cape. “Who knows, if this L-Corp thing doesn’t work out, maybe I could be a seamstress. That’s dignified work.” She meets her eyes. “What do you think?”

Supergirl can’t think anything. She blinks. “Are you ready to go? I’ll take you back to National City, and then come back for this.”

“You’ll be able to find it?” Lena asks. Supergirl nods. “Well, then. Up, up and away?”

Supergirl circles an arm around her shoulder. “How should I carry you?” Lena looks back at her. “I’ve carried James Olsen like a binder— under my arm—” Oh. But that was with her arm over James’ chest. That won’t work. Maybe it wasn’t nice to compare James to a binder.

Lena smiles. “You can carry me however you like. You’re not an Uber. I can’t exactly leave a bad review. Though if I have any say—”

“Of course you have a say.”

“As long as it’s not like a sack of potatoes over your shoulder, I’d say we’re golden.”

Supergirl laughs. Lena’s eyes narrow gently on her. Supergirl wonders if Lena thought she was being condescending. She sobers. “All right.” She wraps an arm around Lena’s waist, draws her a little closer. Her body is soft and comfortable. It’s different being pressed against her like this, rather than to her back. “Hold on to me.” Lena circles her arms around her neck; her cheeks darken. Supergirl smells sweat on her skin, smoke and salt, ocean water, beneath that, her perfume. “You ready?”

“Yes.” She licks her lips. “Tell me if it’s too tight.”

Supergirl smiles. “Never.” They rise into the night sky.

X

Supergirl brings Lena home. She waits on the balcony, fingers on the rails, staring out at the city. Lena invited her inside but she didn’t enter, afraid some knowledge or familiarity might give her away. She tries not to dwell on the anger she feels. Morgan Edge killed children to set Lena up. He nearly killed Lena. And he’s still out there. Her fingers are white. If she hadn’t heard her voice Lena would be dead.

Lena joins her on the balcony, showered, hair loose and wet, wearing a sweater and dress pants. “I’m just now getting warm,” Lena tells her. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Supergirl faces her. “You don’t ever need to thank me. I’d do it for anyone.” She worries it’s a lie. 

Lena twines her fingers nervously. “All the same. I’ve called my driver. I’ll be going to the hospital, at your behest. I’d say ‘Scout’s honor’ but Mother thought the Girl Scouts were terribly pedestrian, and I can’t think of a troop that would have taken a Luthor.” 

Supergirl nearly says that a Luthor brownie would have been adorable, but she doesn’t. She can’t joke. She can’t be too familiar. She fears sometimes, to laugh around her. It’s hard to mask laughter. “I want to give you something. If you’ll have it.” Lena tenses. Waits. Supergirl removes the watch from her own wrist. Holds it for another half minute. “James Olsen once wore this. It was given to him by my cousin in Metropolis. I think he must have reconfigured it so that if James Olsen was in danger, I would go to him. They decided for me. Who I would go to.” She nearly tells her that James is a friend. Doesn’t. “I don’t regret going to him.”

“Why are you telling me this?” 

 Supergirl holds the watch, stares at it. Heat crawls up her neck, but her expression doesn’t change. “I’d like for you to have it.” Lena doesn’t move. “The reason you’re in danger as often as you are is because you’re standing up for the right thing, or because you’ve stood by my side.”

She looks around, searching for words. “I’m not good like you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“You don’t owe me this.” Her voice is wet, and then composed again. “I chose this path for myself.”

“I know you’re your own woman. But… it’s not about ‘owe’. You’re an important ally. You’ve helped me save National City.” She meets her eyes. “I’m not a god or a miracle. We’re both just people trying to do the right thing, make our own names.” Lena’s eyes dilate. “And as long as we’re doing that, I want to stand by your side. Part of me is terrified to offer this to you and not be able to come through. I would hate for you to feel abandoned. I would hate to fail you. Failure’s hard.” She closes her eyes briefly, swallows. “Anyway.” She smiles. “I won’t force you to wear it.” She reaches out, takes Lena’s hand and settles the watch in her palm, closing her fingers around it. “But… please think about it.”

“I will.”

Supergirl exhales softly, looks down to the streets to the dots of cars. “Your ride’s here.” She lifts into the sky, looks down at her. “Goodnight, Lena. I’m glad you’re safe.”

She goes.

X

Supergirl carried the remains of the plane and the barrels back to National City and alerted NCPD. Maggie arrived with the science division, flanked by the FBI. 

_This will likely be taken over by the FBI if they decide to charge this as an act of terrorism._ Maggie said. _Is Lena ready to get involved in another investigation?_

_Do you think they’ll want to question her?_

_If you’re telling me she was kidnapped and thrown onto an airplane meant to kill her and set her up, by Morgan Edge, yeah, she will._

Supergirl sighed. _This never ends. What happens if she doesn’t want to get involved in all of this?_

_Maybe she’s subpoenaed. Maybe these charges against Edge, if he’s even indicted, go away._

_Do you think that will happen?_

_I think he’s devious and he’s a white collar criminal. More often than not? They get away with it. It’ll be his word against hers, and unfortunately, he has the better reputation._

_That’s not fair._

Supergirl could tell Maggie bit her tongue. _Talk to me once you figure out what Lena wants to do._

Supergirl walks into Edge Global. The cleaning staff see her and stop mid mopping, watching her sweep further into the building. Maybe Maggie’s right and he’s going to get away with it. Maybe Lena won’t want to get mixed in in all of this for weeks or possibly years. But he can’t run around doing whatever he wants. It’s not right. He’s dangerous. 

She finds him in his office. He’s pouring himself a drink when he notices her. He flashes his Ken doll smile. She doesn’t return it. “I’d offer you a drink, but does that work on that alien brain of yours?” She steps closer. He has a drink of the scotch. “Anyone ever told you you look prettier when you smile?” he asks. 

If she were human she could hit him. Smash him against a desk or a wall. But she’s not human. “You poisoned and killed children because of your vendetta against Lena Luthor. That’s even lower than I expected of you, Edge.” 

“Fake news. I heard that press conference by those shmoes at the NCPD. Everybody's looking for someone to blame, and in this climate, this #MeToo era, it’s always the rich, handsome, white guy. We can’t get a break.” He scoffs. “You know, I sold Acre Lee Chemical over two years ago.”

“That’s convenient.”

“I didn’t become a billionaire by being stupid.” She doesn’t point out that he’s not a billionaire. “I have a head for these things. I built my company. So did Maxwell Lord. Lena Luthor inherited hers from Lex and she’s running it into the ground. I know it’s not politically correct to say it, but there are some things men do better than women.” Another drink. “A lot of things.”

“You tried to kill Lena. You tried to set her up.”

“That’s your story. Her story. Give it a few hours, let the police and FBI do their investigations, who knows what they may find. Likely some crazed lone wolf, former marine or air force… with mental health problems. Maybe he had a bone to pick with her family. There are a lot of people who have bones to pick with her family. And when they find him…” he shrugs, “the media will look into his past. Dig up some cute pictures, anecdotes about what a good guy he was. And social media will say… ‘too bad he killed himself and escaped justice. These cowards always take the easy way out’, while some Reddit forum will canonize him. It’s always the same.”

Supergirl glowers, jaw clenching. He’s killed someone to pin this on. He must have done it in a way that’s impossible to disprove if he’s bragging this way. Maggie was right. He’s going to get away with this. Her lungs burn.

“You know, I was thinking,” he goes on, “he must have really hated her. Do you ever wonder what that feels like? That kind of hate? Because I don’t think you’re capable of it.”

She can’t touch him now. She’ll kill him. He’s too human. She’s afraid of the rage inside her. She doesn’t need red kryptonite to hurt people. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.” 

He looks at her, smiling as if she’d just told him a joke. “Is this about me now, or is it about Lena? The last time Lena and I had a tiff, you got so mad you dumped in a cargo ship in the middle of the sea. What a hassle. Cost me a few hours. Thirty bucks of dry cleaning.” She rolls her fingers. “I don’t know what kind of hippy dippy justice you practice on your planet, sweetheart, but this is the real world. It’s dog-eat-dog. Now if I have an enemy, I crush her without mercy. Let’s say for instance I was your enemy, the thing for you to do right now would be to kill me. I have to give it to Lena. She may be incompetent but she has guts.” He sets his lowball glass on the desk, and moves around it. “Where was that thing?” He finds a key. Opens a desk drawer, grabs a handkerchief and pulls out a gun. “See this?”

“You’re going to shoot me?”

“Ooh, the condescension. It’s a good look on you. Gives you a little smolder, less ice. No one likes a limp fish.” He levels the gun at her, moves closer. “I’ve got Kryptonite bullets in here. That’s got to be enough to make you squirm.” She freezes. He laughs. “Just kidding. But, this is about as far as Lena was when she came here earlier and pointed this very gun at me. Scared the hell out of me. I thought I was a dead man. I gotta up my security. Tell me, how much does it cost to bring you on?”

“You’re lying.” Her thoughts start racing. He’s doing what Lord did. He’s trying to create a rift between them. She won’t allow it. She won’t be manipulated by it. Lena said she saw him earlier. She said she went to talk to him. To get him to confess. She believes her. 

“Left that part out, did she? I thought you two were bosom buddies.” He grins. “I have to say, the way the Luthors have the Supers wrapped around their little fingers is admirable. I thought aliens were supposed to be advanced. You’re suckers like the rest of them,” he nods at the city. “Well, Sucker. I’m going to hold on to this. And the next time Lena sends you after me—” Supergirl’s eyes glow. His eyebrows shoot up comically. Not scared. Amused. “You going to use your laser eyes on me? You don’t have it in you—” he yelps, the gun going red in his hand, clattering to the floor, melting into a puddle of metal. “Jesus Christ—” he looks at his hand, boils are starting to form—

“I’m not going to let you keep setting her up. I won’t let you hurt her.”

He clutches his wrist, staring at his hand in horror, looking at her. “What has she done to make you jump at her command? You’re getting rid of evidence. That’s devotion. You sleeping with her?” Supergirl’s nostrils flare. “You don’t respond to men— she gives off a sapphic vibe—” she takes a step closer to him and he backs up, scrambling and hitting his desk, “I bet that video could make a fortune.” She goes closer. “Come on, Supergirl. Have a sense of humor. It’s a joke.” Her eyes still burn, she sees the glow of it on his sweaty face. “No need to be so tough. You don’t have it in you.” He frowns at his hand, carefully stroking his palm with the tip of his thumb. “If I were to say to you… ‘I won’t rest until Lena’s dead and buried.’ What would you do? It’s not a threat.” He wheezes a bit, making a face at his hand and looking back at her. “Even this— I don’t even think you meant to do it. You’re just a dumb ox, aren’t you? Bull in a China shop with those powers. You Capes talk a big game, but when it comes to it, you don’t have what it takes.” He closes his eyes, breathes, looks back at her. “Especially you. It’s for the best. Women should be demure. Violence is a waste of that skirt.” She steps closer to him. “Go on, Supergirl. Put your hands on me. Where ever you want, I won’t complain.” Her fingers shake. He meets her eyes, smiles. “That’s what I thought.”

“Stay away from her,” she growls. She steps back from him, carefully, afraid that even brushing his leg might rip it off. 

“Or what?”

She imagines using heat vision to set his office on fire, make the building collapse, paint the walls with him. All those things she’s capable of. She walks out the way she came.   

 

X

They wait for the elevator. Kara feels Maggie’s tension despite her nonchalant expression. Maybe she’s nervous, as a police officer, to come to Lena Luthor’s home. Kara wants to tell her to relax, but doesn’t see the point. She doesn’t want to make her feel weird.

“Are you going to Sam’s for Thanksgiving?” Kara asks. Kara Danvers continues to elude her. Some days it feels like she’s stepping back into that person she used to be, but then realizes it’s really only with Lena. With others she’s still out of sorts. She was never in sync with Maggie that way. “Sam mentioned she invited you. And me. And Lena.”

“Oh. I don’t know.”

“Are you okay?” It’s been nearly a year and a half now since the Daxamite Invasion. The question is too late. “I was thinking,” she touches the strap of her messenger bag, “that after— everything— … we kind of stopped seeing each other. Not just for the small days, but for the big days, too.” Holidays. Alex brought Maggie to meet Jeremiah upon his return. At the time it seemed like too much; but Mon-El had been there, too. Maybe they were both out of line. “I should have done that differently.”

“It’s not your job to look after your sister’s ex.”

“But you were a friend.” She shifts. “Or maybe we weren’t, but I think… I wanted us to be.”

Maggie smiles faintly. “It’s okay.” Is Maggie thinking of their mini-disagreements over work, or how Supergirl told her they were never friends? The elevator arrives. Maggie gets in and Kara realizes Maggie never answered the question. The doors start to close. Maggie props them open with her arm. “You coming?”

Kara steps in. The doors close. She focuses on the elevator buttons and hits the button for the fiftieth floor. The walls are tight. Maggie’s gaze is on her. Her fingers squeeze around the messenger bag strap. She breathes in. She breathes out. She should have taken the stairs. “I don’t like tight spaces,” she explains. “Because of…” she glances at the elevator camera, looks down at the floor. Breathes out. 

“Want to take the stairs?”

“No. That’s fifty— forty-five flights. That’s crazy.”

“I don’t mind.”

“It’s okay.” Kara looks at her, smiles. “Thank you.” She means it. Maggie nods. She keeps her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, watching the numbers climb. “Um. So what cases are you working on?” She wants to ask why she and Alex broke up, but this is easier. “You’ve helped me out a lot lately.”

“You do your part,” she says gently. “So, updates. The girl you spoke to me about? She ran away from home. Her mom didn’t bother filing a police report until days later. The boyfriend— the guy you dropped off at the station, still has a job.” 

“Did she really run away or did something happen to her?”

“I don’t know. She’s run away before, the mom’s boyfriend-slash-police-officer isn’t too concerned. I know it’s not a good look.”

“She asked me to kill him. I didn’t mean to break his arm or his ribs. Sometimes… those things happen no matter how careful I try to be. But…” She rubs her eye under her glasses. “Maybe he took what I did out on her.” She said she’d watch him, but she can’t be everywhere at once. “He’s an awful person.”

“It’s not your fault. You did the right thing.”

“I didn’t protect her. Edge keeps threatening Lena,” she says quietly. “I feel so helpless.” But it’s a self-imposed helplessness. She’s not a god, only a pretender. But wouldn’t she make the world better by taking that burden onto herself? Is she being a coward? She already has so much blood on her hands. What makes this any different? She’s not a human, so why bother holding on to the humanity she’s been working to shed? 

“You’re doing what you can.”

“I could be doing more.”

“But would you be happy with who you were? Could National City trust you?” Maggie asks. Kara doesn’t know the answer. It doesn’t make her feel any better. The floors crawl by. “Let’s see, what else? We have nothing concrete on Edge so far, though we have cleared Lena.” Kara smiles gratefully. “And remember that guy you told me about, who was robbed in the alley? The day of the unveiling at the Waterfront?” Kara nods. Yes. She stayed with Lena as she read the article she’d written rather than go to him. She’s thought about him a lot, what those decisions say about her. “Looks like someone got the guy who held him up.”

“NCPD did? That’s great.”

“No,” she’s chagrined. “Someone strong. His head was twisted around. Like… the Exorcists around. He’s dead.” Kara’s eyes widen. “We’ve got _nothing._ Have you had any luck?”

“I told Alex about it, but they don’t have anything.”

“Whoever it is is going to keep killing.”

“Maxwell Lord thinks he’s going after sinners. He’s freaked out.”

“He probably has good reason to be scared. Not just him. I have a bad feeling about this.” 

The elevator doors open. Kara steps out, breathes. Maggie eventually follows. “I know, but we can’t give up. Whoever it is, we’re going to find them.” The hallway is familiar to Kara, though she hasn’t visited nearly as often as she used to. The past year and a half has flown by. Maybe she and Lena see each other more these days, but not as often as they used to. Kara’s too busy being Supergirl. Lena’s too busy running L-Corp and trying to clear her name. “It’s this way,” Kara leads her to the door, knocks lightly. 

A few moments later Sam opens the door, smiling. “The dream team is together again.” She looks back. “Lena, they’re here!” She steps aside.

Kara and Maggie enter, Sam closing the door behind them. Kara and Maggie take their shoes and jackets off and follow her inside. Kara already knows where everything is. The balcony where she spoke to Lena over a week ago as Supergirl, the spacious kitchen and living room. The small area where she keeps her indoor garden. They’ve had long conversations as they watered flowers, drank tea on the balcony, cooked together in the kitchen. But none of that has happened in the last nearly two years. Kara begins to find the things that are different. The books on the shelves that have shifted, the photographs on the wall that have gone. Even the plants have changed. It hasn’t felt like any time at all but Lena’s life has trudged on without her. She sighs inwardly.

“This was all very last minute,” Sam says, “it was more of an impromptu work thing that turned into ‘should we invite Kara and Maggie over for a mini-celebration?’ thing. We are completely brain dead and ordered pizza.”

“Yum,” Kara spots four pizzas stacked on the kitchen island.

“Think you got enough?” Maggie asks.

Sam smiles. “If I get to eat them all. Anyone want wine? Kara— Lena’s in her room. She said go ahead, if you’re inclined. She’s decent.”

Kara smiles, a small blush coloring her cheeks. Lena’s decent. As in a good person. Lena’s decent— as in clothed. That’s also good. “Maybe I’ll stop in. A glass of wine would be lovely.”

“You’ve got it.”

Kara leaves them. _You’re joining us too, right?_ Sam asks Maggie, already pouring Kara’s glass. _That beer I owe you has to wait._ Kara wonders what that’s about. She knocks on Lena’s bedroom door. “Hi! It’s me. Kara.” She doesn’t enter. “Sam said I could say hi.”

“Come in,” Lena’s voice rings back cheerfully.

Kara enters. The room is mostly dark except for the light that’s coming from the bathroom door. There’s no steam, so she hasn’t just showered. Kara looks around the room, at the wide glass wall that looks out to the city, the large bed with one nightstand off to the side. The watch Supergirl gave her sits next to the lamp. Kara tries to gauge how she feels and turns her attention to the bathroom. She pads closer. Lena’s before the bathroom mirror, wearing a dress blouse and black sweatpants. 

“I know I look a tad informal but I absolutely had to get out of that pencil skirt,” she smiles at her in the mirror. Her hair is loose, the makeup has mostly been scrubbed from her face. She hesitates. “But Sam and Maggie are here. Is that too much?”

“Informal looks good on you.”

“You could sell water to a fish, Kara Danvers.” 

Kara smiles. After Supergirl left Edge, Kara found Lena at the hospital. The thought of Lena being on her own after the night she’d had was unbearable. Kara invented a work excuse to ‘run’ into her. Lena’s face changed as she locked eyes on her from across the waiting room. She got to her feet, threw her arms around Kara, held her tight. _I thought I’d never see you again,_ Lena said, as if Kara had been the one in danger. Kara hugged her back gingerly. _Are you okay?_ Lena nodded against her shoulder, but said little else, save to mention that it had been a ‘Supergirl’ night. Lena didn’t mention what happened with Edge. She didn’t mention Edge at all. Supergirl’s had no updates for Maggie.

Kara shakes the memory, touches the doorframe. “I think the fish might be generous.”

Lena turns from the mirror and embraces her. She’s the only one to hold her since the invasion. It’s strange to have gone from no touch, to touch. It’s becoming familiar, no matter how her body instinctively tenses, unused to contact, maybe not wanting to give in. “Is this okay?”  

Kara hates herself for making her feel unwanted. “Yes.” She holds her another few moments before releasing her, smiling, touching her glasses. “How’s your head?”

“Fine. It was just a scratch. I’m glad you came by.” She takes a seat on the bed and pats the spot next to her. Kara smiles, sets her bag down on the floor and sits. The bed is comfortable, but sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between a mattress and concrete unless she really focuses. “Did you get your article done?”

“The great gelato versus ice cream debate may have finally been settled. It won’t get me a Pulitzer.” She smiles bashfully, dipping her face. She made up a story about vending machine ice cream all over National City when she ran into Lena. She’s a joke of a reporter. 

Lena slips a finger beneath her chin, a tiny bit of pressure and Kara lifts it. She thinks of what Lena told Supergirl, her grim thoughts on death and the absence of an afterlife. Sometimes dying and seeing her loved ones again has been the only thing to bring her comfort. “Pulitzers are a dime a dozen.” Her fingers trail just briefly beneath her chin before she lowers her hand. “I, for one, have been dying to see this matter resolved. What do you prefer? Off the record.”

Kara smiles. “I think gelato is softer and more flavorful.” Her tongue is more sensitive than anything else. “It’s easier to ruin ice cream, in my experience. I see it in ice cream shops, too. Freezer burn makes it taste like winter.”

“That settles it. You may know that an ice cream and gelato shop have opened a few streets over. Directly across from one another. There hasn’t been a bigger rivalry since the Montagues and the Capulets.” Kara laughs. Lena smiles. “I’ve been agonizing over where I should take you. We’ll stop at the gelato shop for our next walk.”

“Are they the Montagues or the Capulets?”

She feigns shock. “The Montagues, of course. I rather think my family would admire the Capulets.” 

“Juliet wasn’t like them.” Kara settles her hands on the edge of the bed, contemplating. “Mon-El found a copy of Romeo and Juliet in my apartment. He thought… he’d found a romantic story.”

“He did. Albeit one with a sad ending.”

“He never finished it. For him, it stayed romantic. Maybe all great love is bound to be a little sad.” Maybe it’s more beautiful when it’s sad and star-crossed.

“Do you think so? Maybe in the longing, and the parting,” she smiles at her, “but… when it fills you up? It lifts you, and makes you strong.”

_Wapow._ Kara’s throat is dry. Lena glows in the city lights. Kara sees it more brightly on her skin than humans would. She’s a painting. Kara feels a bit like Pygmalion. No, she’s the opposite of Pygmalion. She can’t paint. She can’t mold. She can’t touch. Everything crumbles in her hands. She licks her lips, exhales softly. She suspects Lena has feelings for her. She doesn’t know what to do with such a fragile, and precious thing. “That sounds beautiful.” 

Lena studies her. Kara hears her heart. Tunes it out. Focuses on the city. Looks at Lena without seeing her. Why can’t she be normal? She just wants to be normal. “Let’s head back out.” Lena squeezes her hand and stands. Kara picks up her bag and follows, lost in what should be known territory.

X

They eat and drink, gathered around the coffee table by the couch. There’s tension between Lena and Kara despite their smiles. Sam feels like a bloodhound. She can smell the leather of Maggie’s jacket, Lena’s shampoos in the shower, and something altogether different on Kara. She smells of electricity… or a coming storm, rain… She’s not sure. Kara catches her looking. Sam smiles. Kara returns it automatically, as if it were a reflex or camouflage.

“What were you two working on when we got here?” Maggie asks.

Lena grabs her wine from the coffee table. “Mostly our Maxwell Lord and Morgan Edge problem.” 

“What problem?” Kara touches her glasses, settling her hand on her lap to straighten out, curl again. 

Sam wonders if anyone else realizes how much she constantly fidgets. “For starters, does anyone remember Edge’s offer on live television to pay for all the hospital bills of those affected by the lead poisoning? He hasn’t. So now billing at the Luthor Children’s Hospital is being slammed by angry parents who claim we aren’t honoring Edge’s offer.”

“It’s all been taken care of in the meantime,” Lena quickly says.

“By Edge?” Maggie asks skeptically.

“Of course not,” Sam shakes her head, “by Lena.”

Kara looks at Lena fondly. “Sounds about right.”

“Not that it’s stopped the usual rags with the usual hit pieces,” Sam says.

“Those will always exist,” Lena says. 

“They should send you a check every month,” Sam swirls the wine in her glass, “they’d be out of business if it weren’t for you.”

“Yes, let’s get the rumor started that I’m charging the paparazzi for their articles on me,” Lena says. “Edge once told me guilt isn’t good business policy. Initially, when we found out about the Acre Lee Chemical stuff, I thought, you know, maybe practice what you preach. But why would he pay? He’d have to have a conscience to feel guilt.”

“That sick bastard won’t get away with this,” Sam says. “You mark my words. Karma, if you’re out there,” she says, “please make sure that worm never harms anyone again.”

Kara smiles anxiously. “I hope Karma is listening.” She looks to Lena. “But you know… it makes me think of a conversation we had, when this all started. It was before you held the press conference. Do you remember, in your office? You mentioned Edge had said that before and—” she hesitates. “Is it okay to talk about here?”

Lena smiles. “Of course. I trust you.”

Kara’s smile is sincere and anxious. “Lena and I discussed Edge’s offer to pay for the bills, and I guess… the way we help others… and maybe the benefits of what we feel when we get to be helpful. Lena thought maybe Edge had a point and all her good efforts were solely the product of guilt. I’d like to go on the record and say _I_ never believed that.” Lena reaches across, squeezes Kara’s knee. “But… I mean, here she is—” she looks at Lena, “here you are, behind the scenes taking care of the hospital bills— for people who are still saying some pretty nasty things about you. And there are so many people who will never know all the good you do. And you’re not flashy about it. You never complain about not getting your due.” She looks at her, a little starstruck. “I just think it’s remarkable.”

“Or maybe you’re the angel on my shoulder, who won’t let me give up.”

Sam watches them. Kara looks at Lena as if she were something exquisite, but untouchable. Both their faces are rosy. Sam doubts it’s the wine. She wonders if they’re involved, or maybe just longing for one another. 

“All of you,” Lena goes on to say, seeming to realize there are other people in the room. “Everything good that’s happened to me these past few weeks wouldn’t have been possible without you. I won’t ever forget that.”

“I’m sure it will all be smooth sailing from here,” Maggie says. 

Lena smiles. “I’m not sure I understand the meaning of that phrase.”

“I, for one, am looking forward to a return to smooth sailing,” Sam says. “Lena, I admire you, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but I am so glad you’ve been vindicated and can promptly return to resuming CEO duties.”

“I don’t know,” Lena says, “this has been difficult. Maybe it’s time I finally take that vacation.”

“I’ll quit.”

They laugh. Lena picks up a slice of pizza. “Actually, Sam’s the one taking off. She’s going to meet with some researchers of a promising start up. See how they’d feel about becoming a subsidiary to L-Corp, take a look at their paperwork. Preliminary talks have gone well,” she looks at Sam, who nods, “and she’s going to check them out, make sure it’d be a good fit before I get involved. For a woman who’s looking to do less work, you’re going about it in all the wrong ways.”

“It won’t all be work.” Sam says. “That’s the good thing about these business trips. You can check out the sights, try local restaurants. L-Corp provides a very generous per-diem.”

“How else would we entice people to our company? I take plenty of business trips. If someone is able to step in for me? I want to make sure it’s an experience they won’t regret.” 

“Travel, per-diem, a sizable bump in my salary.” Maggie mulls it over. “How do I get a job at L-Corp?” Maggie starts to take a drink of her wine, realizes her glass is empty, lowers it with some disappointment.

“Looking for a new line of work, Detective Sawyer?” Lena asks. “I’m sure I can find something that would be a good fit for you.”

“You can’t quit NCPD,” Kara says, too quickly.

Maggie smiles. Lena chuckles and pats Kara’s leg. “I think what Kara means is that you’ve been instrumental in helping to resolve the most recent catastrophe. I can’t say I don’t take some comfort in your being there.”

“Besides,” Sam says, “when would we see each other if NCPD weren’t always there when things were going to hell?” She gets to her feet and takes Maggie’s empty glass. “Want a refill?”

“I’m good, thanks. I still have to drive.”

“Kara? Lena?”

They shake their heads. Sam heads to the kitchen, looking around for the recycling bin when Maggie appears, carrying two of the empty pizza boxes. Sam glances to Lena and Kara, who have immediately fallen into some conversation, both bubbling with nervous energy. She can’t remember the last time she was in love. If she’s ever been in love. She thought she was in love when she had Ruby. Maybe Kara and Lena don’t feel that way about each other, maybe it’s how they appear, always attentive, kindness radiating from them when they’re together. Sam decides that whether they are, or not, that’s what it looks like, should look like. They’re open when they’re together. When either Lena or Kara interact with her on their own, they’re both removed. It’s more than the newness of their friendships. Even now, now that she and Maggie have given them some space, some of those walls seem to have come down. Kara dips her face, fiddling with her fingers, touching her glasses, her smile warm. She seems genuinely happy. Good.

Maggie’s talking to her. Sam blinks. “Sorry, what?”

Maggie settles the boxes on the kitchen island. “I said do you happen to know where these go? It’s my first time here.”

“Oh. Same.” She looks to Kara and Lena. Maggie follows her gaze, and both seem to silently agree to leave it, for now. Sam folds her arms on the island, Maggie does the same. They twiddle their thumbs and look around for some moments. “Hey, I have a question for you.”

Maggie smiles gamely. “Shoot.”

“Where are you at in this investigation of Morgan Edge? I mean, it has to be obvious by now that this was his work, right?”

“I can’t comment on ongoing investigations,” she shrugs. “Sorry.”

“All right. Can you comment on what the chances of nailing the bastard are?” Sam asks. Maggie’s smile doesn’t fade. “You’re not even going to give me a little hint? You look like a cop to break the rules.”

“Why?”

“The leather jacket.” Maggie laughs, glances towards Lena and Kara and quiets. “No? Christ, movies are full of it.” She leans a little further into the island. “If there is any justice in this world you guys will get him. Ruby hasn’t been the same since Luke died. I know it’ll pass, but it’s shitty that these rich assholes can do whatever they want, to whoever they want and get away with it.” Maggie looks sympathetic. “I’m not mad at you.”

“I know.”

“He said something to me at the hospital that day. When all of this started going down. At least, I think he did,” Sam muses. Maggie cocks her head. “Something like…” she tries to remember. She sees his face. She sees the parking garage. She shakes her head. “God, sorry. I can’t remember.” Maggie waits. “I’m really glad Lena’s coming back to work. It’s not just the work and Ruby. Things have felt… hazy for me. I’ve been getting really bad headaches.” _I’ve been losing track of time._ She wants to tell her but can’t get her tongue to unstick. 

“Do you think they’re stress related or…?”

“Unclear. I used to sleepwalk when I was younger. Ruby found me out on the lawn a few months ago.”

Maggie studies her. “You may have been witness to the madness of National City a time or two. Stress can do crazy things to people.”

“I hope it’s just stress.” She rubs her forehead, her mouth, smiles. “I’ve been afraid I have a tumor or something. And then I start thinking about Ruby and that makes me feel crazy. Leaving her alone.”

“Sam.” She reaches out. Stops herself. “You’ve been through a lot. More in the past few weeks than people go through in lifetimes. It’s probably stress, but if it’s not, you go to the hospital and get it checked out. One step at a time, right? Don’t jump straight to ‘tumor’. It could be a lack of caffeine. Not enough water. Or bad wine. Wine headaches are brutal.” She nods to the empty wine bottle.

Sam knows she’s trying to keep things light. It’s hard to be still. “All the same… this business trip? It’s on the way to… well. To where Patricia lives. If there’s something in my family history that I need to know about.” She exhales. “But she hasn’t picked up my calls. I’m not even sure if she’s at the same address anymore. She hasn’t met my kid, ever. I don’t think she’s ever bothered looking for me. Am I insane to go see her?”

“Do you _want_ to see her?”

“I think for Ruby’s sake, I _have_ to see her. I can’t leave her with some… genetic disaster on her hands. If there’s something I should know about, should prepare her for— and I’ve made the decision.”

She smiles. “Yeah, sounds like it.” 

“I’ve tried not to think about her. Patricia. Who abandons their child? Doesn’t she ever think about… where I am, who I became? How do you go back to someone who never missed you? Who threw you away?” Maggie’s expression is soft. Sam shakes her head. “I swear, you’ve met me at the worst point in my life. I’m not usually this neurotic.” She shifts. “I know you and Lena live and breathe your work. It’s not like that for me. It’s necessity. I like what I do and I’m good at it, but if someone offered me a fortune to walk away, I’d take it in a heartbeat. I don’t think you or Lena would.”

“What would you do, if you had the chance?”

“I don’t know. It feels like I’ve been on the run since my pregnancy. My life has been on pause. Every living moment has been dedicated to Ruby, school, work. I don’t know where I came from, where my birth parents are from. Maybe the bible belt.” She makes a face. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m not sure I ever knew.”

“Maybe that’s what happens to kids like us.” She nods her head to Lena and Kara, to Sam. “We grew up faster than we had to. Never had time to figure ourselves out. Lena always looks like she’s got it together.”

“She puts on a good show. I’ve never seen her broken or anything, but she wasn’t messing around when she said how rough it’s been. She didn’t take a minute off work, either. She may have stepped down from L-Corp but she was working longer hours than when she was the CEO. We lost a couple of really good researchers to Lord Technologies.”

“Why?”

“She was working on the antidote for this lead poisoning. Their families didn’t want the stench of L-Corp on them,” she rolls her eyes, feels Kara’s gaze. Turns to find her looking at her, and away. Sam returns her attention to Maggie. “She needed the researchers, but she needed Lord’s lab. A lot of stock has been sold. And I don’t think Maxwell Lord is going to let go of an antidote that was produced at his lab. We are very much still in troubled waters.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

“Who’s Ruby going to be staying with while you’re gone? Ms. Queller?”

“Yeah. Why, you volunteering?”

Maggie laughs softly. “I’m not sure my babysitting credentials are up to date.”

“Seriously? You babysit all of National City.” Maggie smiles, eyes distant. “Okay, I just want to be clear that I’m not actually trying to get you to watch Ruby.” Some of the tension slips from Maggie’s shoulders. “You were great with her the other day. Kara’s been great with her, too,” she adds. The last thing she wants is for Maggie to think she’s looking for a new baby mama. “Do you like kids?”

“Kids are great.”

“Do you want kids? Don’t worry, I’m not going to lecture about how you aren’t a woman if you don’t have them, or how life only begins when you do. Ruby was a surprise. Would turn out to be the best surprise ever. But God, it was hard and depressing for a long time. Especially on my own.”

“You wouldn’t know it from how she turned out.” Maggie strokes the counter. “I never pictured children in my life. My ex…” she shifts. “She wanted to get married and she wanted to have kids. In that order. It was too much, too fast.” She rubs her eyes, shakes her head.  

“I shouldn’t have pushed.”

“It was a while ago.”

“You said she was sweet. And tough.”

“Mh. I spent a lot of time at dive bars before her. Lots of short lived flings that fizzled out. I had fun. But I worked too much. Was distant. Was accused of being a sociopath. Manipulative.” She shrugs like it doesn’t matter. Sam recognizes it. Has done it herself. “I don’t know if they were right or if I was looking for a connection in all the wrong places. It was different with Alex. But the ending was the same.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out. For what it’s worth, I think you’re great. But if you’re secretly a sociopath, I’d love to know that now and keep you away from my daughter.”

It manages to get a smile out of her. “Jury’s still out on that one.” 

Her skin is itchy again. She glances at her arms. No bugs. Just heat rising inside of her. She wonders where Morgan Edge is. “I think you’re okay. Want to be her godmother? Aunt?” 

Maggie grins. “Shut up.”

“I’ve been trying to rope someone into it for years and so far nobody is biting.” Her vision is getting fuzzy. Skeletons again. Blue prints. _Things look okay again,_ Kara whispers. _Maggie’s smiling. Oh, thank God._ Lena says. _I’d hate for our group to fall apart before it’s really taken off._ Sam looks to them. They might as well have shouted the words. She rubs her arms, doesn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. Why now? The itching is unbearable. She wants to rip her skin off. She looks to Maggie. Wants to tell her about the hallucinations. Wants to ask what she is if bullets can’t penetrate her. She opens her mouth. _**Don’t tell her.**_

Maggie looks back, light smile on her lips. “Everything okay?”

_I think there’s something wrong with me._ Sam breathes. Her fingers twitch. _Tell her._ _ **Don’t tell her**_ _._ Her mind fogs. Calm settles over her again. “Do you want to go out sometime?”

Maggie blinks, looks over to Kara for some reason, before looking back to her. “What?” She asks quietly. “On a date?”

“Yeah. We said we should grab a beer. I mean, I haven’t dated in nearly fifteen years, I have a kid, I’m a workaholic and possibly a hypochondriac. I’m a total catch.” She smiles.

Maggie’s quiet a long time, seems to realize. “Sorry. This is unexpected.”

 “I always get the timing wrong.” She considers. “I hope it doesn’t come off as minimizing your desires and what happened in your last relationship.” Maggie thins her lips. “I’m not looking to get married or get help raising my kid. I like you. You’re nice, and you’re fun— and somehow uptight, at the same time. It’s kind of charming.” Maggie allows a small smile. “You don’t have to answer now. You can if you want to, but if you want to think about it? That’s okay. And if by the time I get back from my business trip, you have an answer and it’s ‘no’? It’ll be fine. I won’t bring it up. We’ll go back to normal, seeing each other when the world is imploding. All things considered, getting shot down for a date is the least of my worries.”

“Okay.”

“‘Okay’ you’ll think about it?”

She taps her fingers on the counter. “Yeah. I’ll think about it.”

Sam smiles. “See? Not the end of the world.” Even if something had unsettled her moments earlier. She can’t remember what now. It must have been nothing. 

 

X

 Sam opens the car door. The air is still even if it feels like she’s moving the heavens to step out of the car. She’s left National City behind and returned to her childhood home. It wouldn’t be shocking if Patricia had moved but there’s the old mailbox with _Arias_ written on it. Sam touches the weathered lettering, remembering how she begged Patricia to check the mail as a child, to lift the little red flag to indicate mail. Patricia always looked at her with concern. Or worry. Did they have a dog? She thinks she remembers a dog.

She feels the bullet in her jacket pocket. The splintered metal should be sharp, but it doesn’t cut. Maybe she can’t be cut. She closes her eyes. She smells grass, flowers, dirt, oil and rust. She breathes out. She walks to the home, takes the front steps to the door and knocks. 

 

 

 


	8. Alien

Sam looks around the home while Patricia putters in the kitchen. Ice cubes clink against glass. Water pours. This was her home once. She’d forgotten all the wooden furniture, their small dinner table. There’s a cabinet filled with tiny home miniatures, all styles, hand painted, some with blades of grass out front, others, small cottages with hay roofs. She vaguely recalls Patricia collecting these. Sitting beside her on the couch as a child, legs swinging as Patricia opened the boxes, removing the tissue paper. They would both stare at the homes in wonder. Sam would pick out the ones she wanted to live in the most. Patricia stroked her hair.

Patricia shuffles into the room with a tray, a pitcher of water and glasses. There are old lady cookies on a plate, from the round tin can, Sam’s sure. Patricia’s aged more than Sam expected. She was always older than the other mothers. Sam feels a pang of fear, at losing her. Ruby will feel that fear one day, too. Maybe it’s normal. Grieving, prematurely, for the future loss of a parent. Not that she can say Patricia was a great one. Or maybe she was until she wasn’t. She hurt for so long it surprises her that she can feel that hurt now. Why did Patricia adopt her if she was so ready to throw her away?

“I figured you were done growing the last time I saw you. But you shot up even more.” Patricia takes the armrest of the chair, maybe bad knees or weak hips, and sits, wiping her glasses to look at her. “I thought you were gone forever.”

Maybe Patricia just hoped she was. “Would you have cared if I was?”

“What do you mean?”

“It means I was sixteen and alone and pregnant. I was terrified and you let me go.” Surprise, she’s still bitter. She thought she’d buried all these nasty feelings but they’re inside her, threatening to consume her. “You were my mother.”

Patricia pours them water. “It was your decision. You may not like that decision, but you’re the one who made it.” She places a slice of lemon on the rim of the glass.

“I was a kid.”

“Old enough to have sex. Get pregnant. Decide to keep the baby. I would have been a crutch for you. How is uh…” she squints, thinking.

“ _Ruby_?”

“Ruby.” She doesn’t agree with the name. “A girl.” She considers that. “How is she? Normal for her age?” She glances at her, extends the glass of water.

Sam takes it, looks at the skin of Patricia’s hand, thin like rice paper. Another pang, this time sadness. It makes no sense. She’s still angry. “She asks about you. She just wants to be like the other girls at school. Have a grandmother who dotes on her.”

“Did you ever marry?”

They’re having two different conversations. She has a drink of water and sets the glass aside, afraid it will shatter in her hand. “Did you ever think about me while I was gone?” She hates that she asked. Patricia looks at her, corners of her lips dipping low, along with her gaze. “Did you ever think of looking for me?”

“You knew where I was, Samantha. How could I expect to track you down? You were always wild.”

“No, I wasn’t. I was…” She doesn’t remember being wild. Was she wild? She remembers being quiet and keeping to herself. Patricia bites into a cookie. Crumbs fall onto her clothes and she wipes them delicately to the side. “Did we have a dog?” 

Patricia pauses mid chew. She has a drink of water.  “Whatever you may think of me, all I ever wanted was what was best for you.”

“You have a lousy way of showing it _.”_ Patricia picks up a napkin, wipes her fingers, sighs. “I won’t take up your time. I’m here because I have no choice. I’m here because—” She licks her lips, “I’m afraid that I’m not well. Strange things have been happening. And as much… as I want to be able to figure it out on my own I haven’t been able to.” Her jaw is tight. “I need help.”

“What kind of help?” A moment. “What kind of strange things?”

Sam takes a breath, hating how her eyes sting, how hard it is to keep her voice steady. “Was I ever sick as a child? Did you … ever get any family history from the family I was adopted from?”

“Nothing that I’m aware of.”

She thinks of the people who smile at her where ever she goes. Glowing outlines. Maybe they’re dreams she’s mistaking for reality. “Did I ever do anything strange when I was younger?”

“You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“Did I ever…” she wipes her forehead, thinking of the attack on the waterfront. That steel beam fell. She lifted it somehow. She shouldn’t have been able to do that. Even with all the adrenaline in the world, no human could have lifted that. Ruby saw it, too. She didn’t hallucinate that. Ruby saw the holes in her clothing; that was no hallucination either. “Did I ever lift anything heavy? Was I ever… did I ever walk away from things that should have hurt me?”

Patricia is still. “No. Nothing like that.”

Sam sighs, gets to her feet. Great. “What about my sleep walking— did I ever do anything weird? Say anything weird?” Patricia breathes more deeply, looks up at her. “Jesus, will you say something? You’re making me feel crazier than I already feel.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth! If you can’t help me— then maybe you can connect me to my birth mother. You adopted me. You must know something about her, even if they didn’t disclose anything at the time of adoption.”

Patricia stands too. “Why do you want to know about her?”

Her gaze starts to flicker, shifting. She closes her eyes, fights not to whimper. She pulls the bullet from her pocket, keeps it wrapped in her fingers. “I was at a press event. Someone had a gun. They fired it into the crowd. A lot of people got hurt. I got home, and I found a hole in my coat. More than one. And I found a little piece of metal, a bullet.” She shows it to her and sees Patricia stiffen. “I got shot,” maybe more than once, “and it didn’t puncture my skin. I got shot and _I didn’t feel it._ How could I not feel it? You’re the only one I’ve been able to tell. The other times I try I _can’t_ say it. It’s like something is stopping me from saying it.” She puts a hand over her face. “I keep seeing things. Hearing things. I feel like I’m going crazy. Just tell me if I’m going crazy.” Her eyes are hot with tears, she blinks them away but her throat is tight.

Patricia’s eyes glisten. She clears her throat. “Follow me.” They go outside. It’s dark now, the wind rustling. She looks up to the night sky. Patricia sighs softly. “You were obsessed with the stars when you were younger. You wanted a telescope more than anything.”

“You never got me one. You said there were plenty of things on Earth to pay attention to.” But Patricia did take her to the planetarium. She let her ride the space rocket quarter rides. They walk to the shed, Sam’s footsteps slowing. “I remember this place.” It looks ominous at night. She smells the old, weathered wood, touches her fingers to it. Remembers struggling to get away from Patricia, slipping out of shirts and jackets. _Stop coming out here. Wake up. Wake up!_ She would snap awake, flailing, unsure of where she was.

“I was always afraid you would come back one day.” Patricia digs into her shirt and takes out a necklace with a key. There’s a padlock on the door. Patricia slips the key into the lock and turns it. The lock clicks open. Patricia removes it and the door swings open with a groan. “I kept finding you here at night. In the snow, in the rain and mud. Eventually I started locking you in your room. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I don’t remember that.”

Patricia moves into the barn and turns the overhead lamp on. It swings, the metal string clinking against the lampshade. “I thought that might be the case. Where are you living these days?”

_National City._ Her mouth is shut again. “Why does it matter?”

“I suppose it doesn’t.” She nods to a shape in the middle of the barn, amidst the hay, covered with a blanket. “I can’t say I have answers. But this might be a start.” Sam looks at her, goes to the blanket. “You asked about your birth mom. I lied. I didn’t adopt you. I found you. In this.” 

Sam pulls the blanket away. She stares at— she isn’t sure what she’s staring at. Some kind of escape pod? “I...”She isn’t sure what to think. Of all the scenarios she imagined, finding something like this was never part of it. She thought she was crazy. She was sick. Is she still crazy…? This can’t be real. “I just... I don’t understand.” Is this a joke?

“I didn’t either. I didn’t know where you were from, or who left you in this thing or why. But I didn’t endeavor to find out. You were alone and just.. you looked so damn helpless. I took you home. I waited for someone to come for you, but no one ever did. There was no Supergirl then. Or even that fella. This was…a dirty thing. Something to scare children in the night. I didn’t know what to do, so...”

 She’s unsteady. She wasn’t adopted. She was found. She was rescued… by Patricia. She blinks. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I swore that I would tell you when you turned eighteen, but you were gone by then. And I thought... well, maybe that’s better. That you would be better off, out there on your own without knowing.”

“That I’m an alien?”

“I just wanted you to have a normal life,” Patricia says. The air goes out of her lungs. There’s no denial. This is it. She’s an alien. How is it possible? “There was no Alien Amnesty Act then. Even now aliens are in the shadows. You were a strange, sweet girl without many friends. I thought, why make it harder? You look like any other person out there. I thought the kind thing to do was… to give you a home and a normal life. I don’t know where you’re from. I don’t know who your mother is. I just couldn’t leave you alone.”

Sam drifts her fingers over the pod. She’s always felt alone, no matter how Patricia tried. Even with Ruby sometimes. It makes her feel like a terrible mother. But maybe this is why. Maybe she’s not like anyone else. The pod hums to life beneath her fingers, alien letters pulsing with light. It calls to her. Tugs at something inside of her. There’s a small hiss and a crystal ejects from the pod, dark and pulsing. Sam touches it, fingers wrapping around it. It warms at her touch. She’s not crazy. She’s not sick. She’s an alien. 

A heavy wave of relief washes over her. She looks back at Patricia who looks small and frightened. Sam smiles. “Thank you for telling me. For holding on to this.” The gem pulses in her hand, lighting the barn, throwing it into light one moment, shadows, the next. “Everything’s coming together.” She’s not sick, she’s strong. She’s not hallucinating. Maybe she has powers. It’s too good to be true. But it’s true. Patricia looks worried. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

 

X

 

_The travesty that was visited on National City must never be forgotten._ Camera shutters punctuate the air. Maxwell Lord remains stoic and measured. _But I’m proud to announce that starting today, those children, and our elderly, suffering in the hospitals from lead poisoning are on their way to recovery. After extensive study, I, with the assistance of Lena Luthor, have created the antidote at Lord Technologies to remedy the lead poisoning that’s affected these individuals. Lena Luthor was accused of being the perpetrator behind these poisonings. Through the diligence of the NCPD we have now discovered she was_ _ **not**_ _behind this illness. Some of you may be wondering why I would share credit with the woman who’s a known business rival. A woman who was accused of poisoning these innocents. It shows the spirit of humanity. The brightest minds Earth can offer, coming together for the greater good. At the end of the day it won’t be gods or aliens who save us. We will be our own saviors._

_Lena Luthor [2:17pm] There’s the dog whistle._

Kara looks at the text and shakes her head. _I’m surprised he gave you credit._

_Lena Luthor [2:20pm] Did I mention the dog whistle? I’m trying to get away from this xenophobia legacy, not be dragged back into it._

_It’s more than I expected of him._ Kara stares at the text message, sees that Lena has seen the message. She types again. _But isn’t he working with Morgan Edge?_ Morgan Edge who strapped her to a plane that he intended to sink into the sea. 

_Lena Luthor [2:25pm] Indubitably. They did hold a Muggles First presentation the day of my unveiling. You were there, but I would have blocked it, too._

Kara reads the message, takes a long breath. _Don’t let your guard down around him._ She waits half a minute and then adds: _Please._

Lena starts to type when Snapper steps beside her. She stows the phone away. He sighs, grunts. “You. Come with me.” The reporters and interns in the newsroom look at her, exchanging looks, other looks of pity. Oh God. Is she getting fired? She trudges after him. She shouldn’t have been texting in the middle of the news room. But that’s crazy, people text all the time. Maybe she shouldn’t have been staring at the news conference— but it’s news. That’s her job.

They arrive at Cat’s office. Snapper paces. Points at the couch. Kara sits in a daze. For once she’s caught up on all her work. Meaning that she has three things pending that are due, absolute latest, in eight hours. Almost late is early for her. She twines her fingers. “What—”

“Did I say you could talk?” He asks.

Kara thins her lips and starts thinking where else she might apply for work. She worked at Noonan’s as a waitress for years. She could do that. She was good at that, even if she broke more dishes and cups than anyone else there, combined. She always let it come out of her check. But she was there early, every day, and she stayed late when someone needed her to. She had energy to spare and they had rewarding lives to get to. But she’s Supergirl now. 

Cat walks in, throws a stack of newspapers on the coffee table, whips her sunglasses off, eyes deadly on Kara. “Do you know how it infuriates me,” she says through clenched teeth, “to see Lois Lane break a story on _my_ cover girl? She lives in _Metropolis._ ”

Kara blinks, trying to reconcile ‘Metropolis’, with Cat’s tone when she says it, as if she were speaking of a rat infested sewer. “She did a story on Supergirl?” She used to keep up with Clark and Lois’ stories but hasn’t in a while now. She never wanted to be a reporter. It just lined up with what Clark did, what Supergirl should believe in, does believe in: truth and justice. Lena said she’d be good at it. It’s easier to imitate fitting in rather than figure out who Kara Danvers is. If she gets fired, she’ll have more time for Supergirl. She expects peace but feels nothing. 

“No, Kara,” Cat snaps, “she did not do a story on _Supergirl._ ” She says it the same way she said ‘Metropolis’. “She wrote a juicy story on Lena Luthor, not even two full days _after_ the NCPD held their press conference. Did you know Morgan Edge once owned Acre Lee Chemical and he might be behind setting her up? No, you didn’t know that, and I didn’t know about that and I had to find out from _Lois Lane._ ” 

“Oh.” Kara says. “I thought you were firing me.” She thinks she’s disappointed.

“What makes you think I’m not?” Cat rolls up the paper, smacks the coffee table as if she were crushing a fly. “I want Lena Luthor in here STAT for an interview and a photo shoot. You could cut diamonds with that jawline and I want it on the cover of CatCo magazine. If you think I’m going to be shown up by that ragamuffin in Metropolis, you have another thing coming. Do you know what you have going for you?” Kara lifts her eyebrows. “Absolutely nothing. _Except_ your friendship with Lena Luthor.” Snapper sighs loudly. Cat ignores him. Kara think about Cat’s words. She might be right. “I want you to _use_ that friendship to get her in here. Forget Lois’ little blurb, we’re going to write a hard hitting piece that’s going to get us the Pulitzer, the Peabody, the goddamn Nobel Peace Prize.”

“Oh.” Kara says again.

“Snapper can’t do it, won’t do it, last time,” she looks at him as if he were a worm, “it went _fine_. But we need more than that. He’s written up the questions and has kindly agreed to let you ask them. Your honeyed bedside disposition trumps his vinegar and since Lena Luthor has taken a shine to you, you’re going to be responsible for getting her here.”

Kara shifts on the couch, takes the folded stack of sheets Snapper hands her, ripped from his coiled notebook. They feel damp in her hand. Maybe from sweat. She looks over the questions. There are questions about Lex, questions about Maxwell Lord— the time Lena’s spent with him, questions about Morgan Edge and the lead bomb. “But I’m not a TV reporter.” She looks at the questions and to Snapper. “Why are you asking me to do this?” She used to seek out stories, was ignored, and sent by Cat and Snapper to write on Lena. Then she wrote too much on Lena and she was pulled back. These days she writes on ice cream and gelato. _Hold on,_ Lena said, when they went to the gelato shop, using the tip of her finger to wipe at the tip of Kara’s nose. Maybe she’s let herself be tied down by Lena. She’s lost her focus. She used to be interested in other things, these days almost nothing holds her attention, much less reporting. She wonders if it’s because she expects to be shot down by Snapper, or because she no longer cares to sink the energy into pitching stories. “I thought I was on probation.”

“You are. I barely trust you with the ice cream articles, Kid,” Snapper pushes the glasses up his nose with his middle finger; Kara wonders if it’s directed at her, “but Cat thinks you’d have better luck getting answers out of Luthor than I would and unfortunately I agree.”

“I don’t want to use my friendship with her like that,” Kara mutters. She looks at them over the rim of her glasses. Sets the paper beside her on the couch. “Find someone else.” It comes out harsher than she intends. She tries again, doesn’t look at them. “You should find someone else.” 

Cat looks at her. “ _What_?”

“This is gossip.”

“We’re a gossip magazine.”

“I thought you said that I was worrying the members of the board with our slant. They said we were biased.” She touches her glasses. 

“That’s why I wrote the questions,” Snapper says. “Not that they’ll matter if you let her pivot.”

Cat looks at Kara. “You are under the delusion that you have a choice,” Cat says. Kara looks up at her, feeling dispirited. She thought they’d moved past this, but Cat has always shined more brightly for Supergirl than for Kara Danvers. “I want her here for that photoshoot and on-air interview. This is a news-slash-fashion-slash-gossip media empire and she is the perfect Venn diagram to capture all three. I have asked for _one_ thing from you in over a year,” Kara doesn’t point out that just yesterday she had her rush out to pick up her medications from the pharmacy, “if you _can’t_ make that happen, you can find yourself another job.”

Her back is as sturdy as a wet towel. “What if she doesn’t agree?” Maybe she should be fired. She hates walking past Kelly’s desk. Kelly who was innocent. But no more innocent than James and Winn. She chose them over her. She remembers Kelly’s body broken and bloodied on the concrete. She remembers it every day. She let Mon-El die. Is that growth?

Cat slams the paper on the desk again. “I don’t want excuses, Keirah.” Oh. Back to that again. “You do what it takes to get her here. Now get out of my office. I don’t want to see your face again until you have news for me. And don’t think you’re escaping our wardrobe department. If you think you’re going to go on the air in _that,”_ Kara glances down at her blue gingham shirt, dark blue pants and brown belt, “you’re crazier than those basement dwelling incels.” She considers. “Almost.” She whisks away to her desk.

Kara’s legs shake as she stands. Snapper takes his notes from the couch, untucks the pencil from behind his ear and writes another question down. _What’s your relationship with Maxwell Lord, and what other projects are you working on with him? Do you agree with his humans first philosophy?_

Snapper exits Cat’s office and Kara follows. “I’m not going to ask you to call her while you’re on speaker phone,” he says, “but don’t blow this, Ponytail. Cat’s giving you an opportunity that you don’t deserve. Every single reporter here is more qualified to do this interview than you are. Friends don’t make for tough interviewers.” She says nothing. He seems tired, as if her very presence were exhausting him. “Once you confirm with her you come to me and we’ll run over the questions together, got it?”

“What if she doesn’t agree?” She asks again.

“Then we’ll pull someone in off the street to take your job.” He walks off.

Kara watches after him. Cat is in her office typing away. Isn’t this what she wanted? To be given a serious interview, real responsibility? Lena has been her bread and butter at CatCo. She sighs inwardly and returns to her office. She pulls the phone from her back pocket. 

_Lena Luthor [2:29pm] He’s tried to wear me down and failed. But_ _ **thank you**_ _for being protective. Worry not. My walls only come down around you._

Kara licks her lips. Rubs her eyes under her glasses. Sits on the office chair. She calls her but it rings and goes to voicemail. Who knows how many meetings she’s in, especially with Sam gone on her business trip. “Lena, it’s me.  I have been asked to…” she waffles, fingers rubbing along her desk. She sees a dent form and pulls her fingers away. “CatCo would like to do a hard hitting interview with you. On the air. With yours truly. There may have been mention of a photo shoot. Ms. Grant is annoyed that Lois upstaged her with some piece about you in the Daily Planet. Anyway— I’m sure you’re busy, so if you can’t do it, that’s okay. I think they have a few other things lined up. No hurry on any of this. I—” She swallows, flushed. “… I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

X

 

 Patricia doesn’t ask to see Ruby and Sam doesn’t offer. She stops at a FedEx where she faxes Lena all the necessary paperwork and uses the wi-fi to respond to work e-mails. She calls Ruby to tell her there’s been a delay in the trip and then she’s on the road again.

The road stretches ahead, curving like a snake at times, a river of grey and black. The sun hangs like a blood orange. She’s surrounded by desert, heat waves distorting the scenery into a Dali painting. She’s an alien. No big deal. She still hasn’t processed it. How will she tell Ruby? She can tell her she’s part alien, like Supergirl. Or maybe Patricia was right and she should wait until Ruby’s older. All kids want to fit in. It’s all she wanted when she was younger. The dashboard flashes at her. She’s low on gas. 

Her panic is allayed by the ring of her phone. ‘Detective Sawyer’ displays on her carplay. Sam smiles and takes the call. “Hey. I thought you’d be running for the hills after our last talk.”

_The one where you tried to get me to adopt Ruby?_

“Ha, ha. That is so not what happened.” Although she did ask for a date. She promised not to press and she won’t.

_Uh huh. Are you back in National City yet?_

“There’s been a slight detour.”

_Anything exciting?_

“That’s what I’m looking to find out. I’m hoping for less exciting.”

_It’s gone okay so far? Did you talk to Patricia?_

“I did.”  

_How’d it go?_

“Better than expected. Everything is strange but it makes so much more sense now.”

_What a relief. I know how worried you were._

“You don’t know the half of it. I have so much to tell you when I get back. You know how they say you can never go home? It was strange being there again. Everything looked smaller. _She_ looked smaller. She’s so much older.”

_And she behaved?_

“I think _she_ thinks she behaved.” Though now she understands Patricia’s aloof disposition. Patricia didn’t adopt her. Maybe she never wanted to be a mother. Did Patricia want her to have an abortion because she’s an alien? Was she afraid of what her child might be? She’s lost in thought.

_Sam?_

“Yeah, sorry. She made dinner. Roasted chicken and corn bread. I forgot how amazing her corn bread was.” Patricia worked on dinner while Sam wandered the home, memories surfacing. Memories of running down the halls, fingers trailing over walls. She remembered ash. Or lead. Was it charcoal? On her fingertips. She saw pictures of her younger self in frames on the bureaus, on tables. Patricia cared in her own way.

_How’s_ _ **your**_ _corn bread?_

“Dry.”

Sam hears the smile in Maggie’s voice. _It sounds like going back was the right decision_.

“Don’t get your hopes up; I didn’t get the recipe. I don’t think we’re going to be spending holidays together but… I’m glad I went. Even if it hurt.” She looks at the crystal, sitting on the dashboard, glowing brighter. “It was harder being back than I thought it would be.”

_You always knew it would be hard. You took a chance, and it worked out._

“My relationship with her won’t ever be easy. She’s a hard woman to like, but I think she tried her best. I have a lot to think about.” She shakes her head. “Enough about me. How’s National City treating you?”

_Not bad. It’s been relatively quiet._

“Are you trying to say that’s because of _me_?”

A soft chuckle. _Could be. Hey. Um. If Thanksgiving’s still on the table— I’d like to take you up on the offer._

She’s surprised. Pleasantly surprised. “That’s great. It’s still on. Ruby will be so happy to have someone to distract me. Lena’s coming, too. And Kara at some point.”

_What should I bring?_

“Yourself. And… pumpkin pie?”

_I guess you’ve already braved a Lena press conference. You’re on. I’ll check to see if my oven is working._

Sam grins. “I can’t promise the food will be the best you’ve ever had, but the company can’t be beat.”

_I don’t doubt that._ There’s a beat. _Where are you right now?_

“Good question,” she looks at the crystal. It’s no longer glowing. She’s alone on the road. She turns the wheel and the crystal grows dimmer, turns it in the opposite direction to the left and it starts pulsing again. “I think I took a wrong turn. I’m going to try to find a gas station, get some directions.”

_Don’t get too lost. Who else will I dodge bullets with?_

Sam doesn’t know what to say. Not the truth. The truth later, when she gets back to National City. She hopes Maggie isn’t a xenophobe. Lena and Kara aren’t. She’s never heard Maggie say anything like that. What matters is that she’s not crazy. That she’s just different. She can handle different. She considers Maggie’s comment and wonders if maybe Maggie doesn’t have many people in National City. Neither does she, neither does Lena. It’s good that they can all be friends. “I’ll be back before you find someone else to adventure with.”

A pause, as she mulls over Sam’s words. Sam waits for the inevitable rejection. But nothing can get her down now. _I’m glad things went okay with Patricia. Drive safe. Let me know when you’re back in National City?_

“I will.”

_Great._

Goodbye hangs between them. “Maggie. It was nice to hear from you.”

_Likewise. Talk soon._

“Bye.”

She ends the call, smiling. She sets reminders on her phone to pick up groceries for Thanksgiving. She drives, dust clouds whirling in her wake. She’s not sure where she is. Maybe she’s an alien, but who says aliens can’t be crazy? Why is she following a glowing crystal? She’s always thought people who went to gem stores looking to be cleansed of whatever negative aura they’ve deluded themselves into thinking surrounds them were ridiculous. Now she’s in the middle of the desert, with a dying phone, low on gas, hoping to find what exactly? What if she can’t make it back and she dies out here?

_Keep it together, Sam._

She’ll keep it together. The car is warm. The heat so overbearing the AC is doing little to keep it at bay. She drives until the car starts to shake. Soon it stops altogether. It refuses to start despite her coaxing. Her cell phone has no service. She exhales, takes the crystal, opens the hood of the car. Smoke pours out of it. She feels panic. She thinks of Ruby. _Something wonderful is happening, baby. I’m going to tell you everything when I get home._

She’s no longer sure she will get home. No, that’s ridiculous. She has to get home. She can’t give up. She won’t give up on herself, or on Ruby. But the car is dead. There’s nothing as far as the eye can see. Just the unbearable heat, endless blue skies, endless desert. 

She leaves the car and walks, the crystal serving as her compass. It grows warmer in her hand, flickering more brightly with her every step. She thinks of that press conference. One bullet, three holes in her jacket. One bullet was crushed when it pounded into her. What happened to the other two? She thinks of Officer Donnelly, her brain, skull. The blood. She thinks of Maggie hugging the platform, heaving for breath, the bullet lodged in the back of her vest.

No. That’s crazy. Maggie said there was a second shooter. Bullets don’t bounce off of her. She’s not Supergirl. She may be an alien but she’s not a killer. “I’m not a killer,” she says it out loud to reassure herself, and again to make it stick. There was a second shooter. Someone will find them. She won’t drive herself crazy. Even if Maggie said witnesses were unable to pin anyone else down at the scene.

Her thoughts spiral but grow fuzzy as the crystal heats in her hand. They vanish altogether when the ground begins to splinter at her feet, cracks racing like strikes of lightning. An earthquake? How…? She loses her footing, falls. Hard rock spikes out of the ground, sharp as thorns, lacing together like a phalanx. The rumbling is so loud she can’t hear her thoughts. She’s hallucinating. She must be. She squeezes her eyes shut, fingers buried in dirt until the quaking stops.

She’s afraid to open her eyes. What will it mean if it’s still there? Does she want it to still be there? She opens her eyes, a jagged, stone fortress. She gets to her feet unsteadily and looks back. She can’t see the car anymore. Where ever this crystal has led her, there’s no guarantee it will lead her back. She exhales shakily and walks toward the monument.

The temperature drops as soon as she’s inside. “Hello?” She calls out. It’s pitch black. She touches the walls. They’re wet, or maybe the temperature difference makes them feel that way. She trails her hand along the walls and realizes the walls themselves are black, not just dark. There are spots that glow red, like burning coal. They beat in time with her heart. She reaches for them but stops herself, her attention drifting to a set of stairs.

She takes them down. Whatever this place is, it is not of this world. This crystal led her here. She’s on the right path. So why is she so uneasy? She comes to an open room. There are rock formations everywhere. She stops when she sees one, bearing a crest, in the shape of a diamond, inside the carving of a skull, screaming.

Creepy. 

She looks around and rubs her arms. “Hello?” Her voice doesn’t echo as it should. Sam wanders, goes to the sigil again. There’s a slot in the shape of the crystal. She takes a breath. “Here goes nothing.” She slips the crystal in. It pulses and then vanishes. 

A hologram appears. A man. Sam doesn’t recognize him or his garb. He’s tall with a kind face. She waves her hand at the hologram and it smiles back. It’s alive somehow. How is this technology possible? Is it alien technology?

“You’re here,” he says.

It talks. “Who are you?” She circles him. “Are you real?”

“I was once. Now, this is all that remains.”

She stands in front of him. “What is this place?”

“A piece of our world, the dead planet Krypton. It was preserved for you.”

“Krypton?” She blinks, smiles. “Oh my God. Ruby was right. She thought I had powers and I do.” She palms her face, breathing again. She’s Kryptonian…! “I always knew I was different,” her words bubble over, “but I thought it was because I was adopted.” Her planet is gone, maybe in time she will mourn it, but now she glows. She’s special. “I’m like Supergirl.”

The hologram regards her. “You are more than that.”

“Who am I?”

“You are a creation. A perfect specimen, one of the many defenses created for Krypton. After creating Medusa, I realized it would not be enough to stop all manner of evil on Krypton. There were those among us who were corrupt and threatened our way of life. You were meant to be what many have failed to be on this planet. A true protector, with only one purpose: to execute justice.”

“Wait. I was created…?” She doesn’t know what that means. “In a lab?”

“Yes.”

Her heart sinks. “You created me?”

“Yes.”

She’s sick. She has no parents. She’s a science experiment. She’s not special. She’s a freak. “Who are you?”

“I was once Zor-El, of Krypton. Brother to Jor-El, husband to Alura, father to Kara, uncle to Kal. Chief scientist to the Kryptonian Science Council.”

Kara…? She rubs her eyes. No. This is crazy. It’s a coincidence. Not that Kara. The Kara who smells like the stars and coming storms. The one whose parents have died. The one who’s shrouded in sadness. “I don’t understand what any of this means. I’m a hero? I’ve been sent here to help her?”

“You will see clearly what they cannot. You have already begun weeding them out. The foul of this planet have begun to take notice. You will keep this planet safe and extinguish the chaos. You will cleanse it until it is as Krypton once was.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Krypton was a place of peace and science. We had our gods, but harmony came at a cost. It was not a burden I could share with my daughter, but you are not my daughter; you are a weapon. The people of this world will not call you a hero. They will call you Worldkiller. They will try to contain your power but they will fail. You will show no mercy to those who oppose you. Your justice will burn the world of man. You will cleanse the sin of this planet so only the righteous may walk upon it.”

There’s too much information all at once. It’s hard to keep up. “You’re wrong. Are you saying—” her throat is tight. “That I’ve killed people?” She hears screams, as if from a time past. No. It’s not true. She thinks back to the press conference. She sees a church. “I haven’t killed anyone,” her voice shakes. “You’re broken— You’re mistaken.” The hologram looks at her impassively. “I’m not a murderer. I’m not…a Worldkiller.” The name itself terrifies her. It’s the name of a monster. “I’m _not_ a Worldkiller. I have a life. I’m not perfect, but I’m a good person. I have a daughter.”

“Your child was an unfortunate error. Your powers were intended to manifest when you came of age. She delayed the manifestation of your destiny. You will soon forget her. You will forget all your mortal trappings and undertake your true purpose.”

“No.” Forget the crystal. Forget this place. Forget all of this. She was out of her mind to come here. She will not be ordered around by holograms. She has free will. She has a daughter. She has National City and people she cares about. She will not forget the people she cares about. She cannot forget. “I won’t do it. This is nuts. None of this is real. This is all…”

She wishes she just had a brain tumor. It doesn’t matter. She leaves the crystal and moves away. 

“You cannot escape your destiny. This is what you were made for,” Zor-El tells her. “It is time for you to emerge. It is time for you to become Reign.”

 Her heart is tight. A pain like she’s never known grips her. She’s being split and broken in every possible way. She looks at her hands but they’re still intact. Her knees buckle. She wants to refute him but she’s in agony. She can’t speak.

She hobbles to the stairs. She can’t breathe. “No.” Another stab into her. Her insides are burning. It’s rising up inside her like bile. She promised Ruby she’d return soon. That something wonderful was happening. She’ll die here, having lied to her. Transformed into some horrible creature. She wishes Patricia had told her she was unwanted and unloved, rather than this awful reality. Tears stream down her face. It can’t end like this. “Don’t do this— I have a daught—” Her skull is hot, her brain is melting. The migraines of before were bliss compared to this. Her vision ebbs black, she growls, trying to fight it, before crashing to the ground, face first into the dirt. 

Minutes pass in stillness. Her fingers twitch, breath hitches. She closes her eyes. A soft exhale. She breathes in dirt and calm. She opens Her eyes, the red light of Her pupils coloring the dirt beneath Her. Energy flows into Her, making Her strong. Zor-El watches from a distance, with something like regret.

She is here. At long last, She has control. Now She can begin. Reign gets to Her feet, ignoring the tears that have caked to her face. She has awoken.

 

X

Kara sighs inwardly, preparing for her terrible day. Lena agreed to the interview. Sometimes Kara wishes Lena weren’t so agreeable. 

_But they’ve asked you to do it. They’re your superiors, Kara. Sometimes you have to play the game._

_See? This is what I meant when I said you’d fire me in a heartbeat if you were my boss._

_Luckily I’m your best friend, not your boss. Look, you think I can’t handle a tough interview? People try to blow me up on a regular basis. Interviews are just_ _ **slightly**_ _more intimidating._ Kara smiled. _If you don’t want to do it, I understand, but I’m going to be honest, I think it’s a mistake. They think you have clout—_

_They want to use my friendship with you._

_So what? Use it back. Take advantage of it. Make yourself indispensable to them._ She smiled. _I’m a hot ticket item, you know._

Kara laughed, not able to meet her eyes for very long. _I may have heard that._

_You’ve never shied away from interviewing me. I mean…_ she hesitated. _Do you think there’s something about me that’s going to get out? Something that will paint me in a bad light?_ Kara shook her head, felt guilty for implying that, wondered if she was too caught up in what Lord and Edge were trying to put in her head. _Then what’s the big deal? I could use some good publicity, and I never mind sitting down with my favorite interviewer. It’ll be something to laugh about later. And we can go out afterward, get dinner, have drinks, whatever._

Kara nodded. _Okay. Let’s do it._

Lena brightened. _Yeah? It’s going to be okay._ She took gentle hold of her arm, gave it a squeeze. Kara was too tense to feel it. _We’ve got this._

Kara nods to herself as she returns to her office. Yes. She has this. They have this. Cat told Supergirl to pull it together in her personal life. This is what she meant. Cat doesn’t know who Supergirl is, but Kara can impress her. And she’ll impress Snapper, too. She just has to get over her nerves. Snapper went over the questions with her until she had them memorized. He prepared her as if she were going into war. _You can’t let your friendship get in the way of this interview,_ he stressed. _When the camera starts to roll you’re someone else. Kara Danvers, reporter for CatCo Magazine and the National City Tribune, not Lena Luthor’s pal._

The questions, however, are hard. Even if NCPD has cleared Lena, she’s still expected to ask about the lead bomb, how the rumors surrounding her involvement of the lead poisoning made her feel. Kara knows how it made her feel. She hasn’t forgotten, will never forget Lena in her apartment, asleep on the couch, the fear and anguish in her voice as she speculated on her role. She knows how Lena guards her vulnerability. Maybe she’s too overprotective. Lena won’t slip. There’s an open ended question about her work with Maxwell Lord. The question was on the list before Lord’s announcement about the antidote. What’s important is not making Lena come across as defensive. Kara tells herself that her friendship with Lena will be helpful. She can ease her into questions, maybe ask them the right way so they’re not as… cutting as they are on paper. Either way, Lena can protect herself. Lena is strong and confident and capable.

She sets the questions down on the desk. She has to get to wardrobe soon to  look ‘presentable’. She knows Lena’s already down there. They’re getting her ready for the photoshoot. She might stop by. Maybe seeing Lena ahead of time will calm her jitters.

She’s reviewing the notes again, considering gentler ways to frame the questions when her phone rings. It’s Winn. She picks up the phone. “Winn, what’s up?”

_Hey, you! So I think I may finally have some answers but I can’t promise any of them make sense._

Kara frowns. She followed up with him about the gunshots Supergirl had him respond to with the NCPD while she rescued Lena. There hadn’t been any news reports, and even Maggie had no idea what may have happened. “All right, let’s hear it.”

_Turns out the gunshots happened outside of a bank. And check this out, the shots were fired by NCPD and the bank security guards._

“At the robbers?”

_This is where it gets interesting. So, not having known that the NCPD and security guards were playing cops and robbers already, I sent an alert to another nearby police station, since they were right on the border, to get this crook wrangled up!_

“And?”

_And, it turns out the robber— is it robbery if they don’t have a weapon? Anyway, the cops decided to let her off scot-free with the money, while they shot at each other like fish in a barrel._  

“What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

_I know, I know. Don’t tell Maggie, but I_ _**may** _ _have hacked into both of the police stations server to see what I could find. The police reports are really coocoo. They were all firing at something else. It’s like they all had some mass hallucination. But the hallucinations don’t line up._

“Okay…” She’s at a loss. “Was it… was it some kind of poisoning or… was there a gas leak? How could this have happened?”

_That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I did get some footage from the dash cams and the bank robber— robber? Thief?_

“Winn.”

_Having cross referenced the police reports with the video— there’s nothing there to line up with what the officers saw. The bank thief only looked at them. She just walked out with the money. I’m trying to track down who she might be, but the footage is grainy. I can tell that she’s tall and blonde and— can I say this— I suspect she’s a babe._

“Track her down.”

_Yeah, no problem. Tall, blonde, fit attractive woman in California. I should be able to narrow that down in no time. That was sarcasm, in case you couldn’t tell._

She couldn’t tell. She looks around. “Okay. See what you can do. And thank you— wait. Did any of them die? Did any of the police officers die?” She could have been there but she went to Lena. She didn’t regret it then but now she wonders if that was selfish, to focus solely on the people that matter to her. 

_There were about twelve officers and guards there in total, but no fatalities. Either they’re all really bad shots or— whatever mass hallucination they experienced made sure their shots were non-lethal. That’s good news, right?_

“Maybe. Okay.” She breathes out. “Let me know when you have more or if she surfaces again?”

_You betcha._

She ends the call, wonders what mass hallucination a whole group of people could have experienced. How they could have all been different? If it wasn’t something in the air or the water— maybe it’s some kind of meta? She isn’t sure. _You have been bored._ Her boredom isn’t worth the safety of National City. The good news is that a meta shouldn’t be able to affect her mind. Even J’onn can’t. She’ll be able to see clearly if this woman strikes again. She’ll be able to keep the police officers safe.

She takes one final look at the questions, leaves her phone on her desk, and takes the elevator down to where the wardrobe and photography department are. Women run past her, carrying belts, others pace, heels clicking as they make arrangements to get the right collections in. Kara wanders, questions crunched in her hand, feeling like an ostrich amidst swans. 

She stops one of the women walking briskly down the hall. “I’m supposed to get to— actually, do you know where Ms. Lena Luthor is?” The woman points down the way and Kara goes to one of the doors. She sees the name written on the door in chalk. She hasn’t actually been down this way since her orientation with CatCo years ago. She was only meant to be a personal assistant to Cat. Even when she got her job as a reporter she was steered clear of fashion. She looks at her green pants and light purple sweater. Her fingers curl to the fabric, straightening the collar of the button up shirt she wears beneath before knocking on the door. “Lena? It’s Kara.”

“Come in,” she hears. She enters and sees a vanity table, make-up scattered along it, bulbs shining bright and a partition screen in the other half. “We’re just finishing up.” Lena’s voice is muffled.

“Stand still,” a stylist says. Kara waits by the door hesitantly. Another few minutes pass and then the stylist, moves around the screen, sighs, looks at Kara and opens the door. “Can you imagine being that gorgeous _and_ a billionaire? Life’s so unfair.” She looks to the screen. “I’ll be back soon with those outfits,” she calls out to her before exiting, shutting the door behind her.

“Kara, are you still here?”

“Yes!”

“Oh, thank God.” A moment later she appears from behind the screen, wrapped in a robe that’s shorter than Kara expected, barely touching her mid thighs. Her face heats. “You know, I had to fight for this and it’s the equivalent of a hand towel.” She moves closer, takes a seat on the bench at the vanity table, legs demurely crossed. “No matter how often I do these things, I always feel like an ugly duckling pretending to be a swan.” She smiles, hair spilled loose around her shoulders, dark as the night, lips an inviting, shimmering red. Kara clears her throat. “Sit.”

Kara sits on the bench alongside of her, turning to face her. “Um. You look…” she gestures to her. Lena waits, but Kara doesn’t know how to finish. 

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve never done an interview for tv. Not when…” she breathes, “I wasn’t at a press conference and someone happened to point the camera at me. Not like an actual sit-down interview.” 

Lena smiles. “The good news is you won’t be getting shot at like at one of my press conferences. I have complete faith in you.”

“Thanks.” She waits a moment. “Hey, how come you’re always reassuring me when I should be reassuring you?”

“Are you kidding? You’ve gotten me through so many hard times, Kara. A little encouragement here and there? That’s the least I can do. And as it turns out, it’s no effort at all.”

Kara looks at her, her long neck, the plunging neckline of her robe. She looks away, looks at her hands in her lap instead. “Snapper said I didn’t deserve this.”

“He’s a toad.”

“He’s a good journalist.” Kara looks at her, focused again. “And as much as I wish I could argue with him, he’s not wrong when he said… literally any other reporter here is more qualified to do this. Even the junior reporters.” A beat. “I didn’t even get to write the questions tonight,” she takes a shaky breath. “He wrote them and I’m just…” a prop. She takes a moment. “I guess I can’t be trusted to be hard hitting around you.” She sees the sympathetic look on Lena’s face, straightens up, smiles, blinks any fire from her eyes.  “Even that dumb ice cream versus gelato piece. It wasn’t even a thousand words, but I was way too proud of myself for getting it done and submitted on time. Something so small like that.”

“Then let’s be proud of the little things. I had to keep myself from texting you the moment I got here, to come down and keep me company. And when one of the stylists was here earlier, they had all these suggestions for outfits that— honestly I’m not confident I can pull off. But I kept my mouth shut and decided to trust them. Sometimes even small things can be anxiety producing. Having to come out to you in this hand towel,” she smiles and Kara laughs. “Sometimes the little things are the biggest things.”

Kara nods. “Thank you. I have to get to wardrobe, too. I was headed there when— I chickened out and came here instead. I’m not sure what they’re going to put me in. After they spend at least five minutes ridiculing this outfit, anyway.”

“Would they do that?”

“Some of them.”

“Jerks. _Well,_ ” she says, “I know for a fact they could put you into Lady Gaga’s meat dress and you’d still be my Kara Danvers beneath it all.” Kara bows her head, trying to hide her smile. “Don’t tell me you’ve become a vegan overnight.”

“No, no. I’m just…” she looks at her. “I just…” Lena looks back. “I just really appreciate you.”

Lena smiles. “I just really appreciate you, too.”

The door flings open, a team of stylists rushing in with racks and bags of clothing. “I guess that’s my cue to go,” Kara says. 

Lena doesn’t get a chance to respond before Kara is ushered out. Everyone scurries like ants. A guy grabs her arm and ‘pulls’ her down the hall. “Kara Danvers? I'm Kev. Cat Grant sent a picture of you, saying you'd probably get lost. I’m taking care of you tonight.”

“Oh.”

“Do you have contacts?”

“People or lenses?” He looks at her like she’s a moron. “No.”

“All right, you're going to have to take the glasses off and let down that hair—”

“No. I’m not doing that.” 

He looks at her exasperated. “Cat said you would be difficult.” He opens a door and ‘pushes’ her through it. “You're going to have to take the glasses off for our makeup.”

“Can’t I do my own makeup?”

He laughs. Kara looks at him. “Oh, were you serious? No. God no. Cat would fire me. You are not worth my job. Sit, sit.” He settles his hands on her shoulders and ‘forces’ her to sit, contemplating her. “Take your glasses off.” She feels sick. “Today.” She pulls them off. He stares at her a long time. “Oh God.” She waits, flushing. “Has anyone ever told you you look like that blonde from Riverdale?” He waves it away, “all blondes look alike.”

She clutches the glasses in her hands. “Yep. We do. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I get confused.” She laughs awkwardly. “Who am I?”

He rolls his eyes, looks her over, plants his hands on the armrests of the chair. “You're gorgeous.” He sounds disgusted. “But you dress like a child's coloring book.” He narrows his eyes on her. “Where do you get your lipstick? Sephora?”

She’s not wearing any. “Um. Yes.”

“And the blush, too? Whoever set you up got it right. This is what ‘natural’ is supposed to look alike. Amazing.” He puts the contour blush down, while Kara thinks back to high school, the way she constantly ate and wouldn't gain a pound, how she always looked well rested and glowing. _It's not fair that you just get to roll out of bed like that,_ Alex would say. But Kara never understood it. It's just the way she looked. “The rack’s already here. Cat sent down your measurements.”

“Of course she did,” she grumbles.

“Strip.” She looks at him. “Behind the screen if you want.” He hands her an armful of clothing. 

Kara takes them and moves behind the screen. “Do you have to stay here?”

“Cat insisted.”

She sighs inwardly. So much for doing a quick change. There are dresses and women’s suits. She tries them on, coming out each time for his approval. He shakes his head at the grey dress, at the blue dress, at the soft white blouse and black skirt combo. Finally she exits in a light blue women’s suit and heels. He nods. “This blouse is a little low,” she tells him. 

“It's suitable for prime time and you look hot.” 

No one has ever called her hot before. She looks at her reflection in the mirror. It doesn't look like her. This looks like something Sam would wear. She smiles thinking of the armadillo picture Sam texted her days ago, runs her hands over the fabric. 

“Stand still.” He snaps a picture on his phone, sends it off. Moments later: “Cat said you finally look like a real adult.” He tries to pull the clips from her hair but she waves him away and he takes off.

She knows where the photo shoots take place and goes, watching from a distance as the photographer snaps pictures of Lena. _All right now look to the right. Tilt your face down, eyes up. Gorgeous. Unbelievable._ Snap snap snap. _Now give me smoldering._ Lena catches Kara's eyes, smolder vanishing, replaced with the gentlest of smiles. _Okay, not what I asked for, but beautiful._

Kara smiles, mouths to her: _you look great._ She gives her two thumbs up. The camera snaps again, quick, almost indifferent succession, hoping to strike gold. Kara thinks that if she were to sketch or paint Lena, she would take her time, savor her like wine, commit her to memory again and again, immortalizing her in her mind before pressing pencil to paper, paint to canvas, hoping only, that the curves were true enough, that the strokes were as loving and careful as Lena herself is, that they would in some way, capture even a glimmer of her gentle presence. A camera, a shoot like this with the glaring lights is almost crude. Maybe she's as arrogant as Rhea said. She knows that the pictures will be beautiful, because Lena is beautiful. Lena’s doing the work with her very presence.

It continues that way for some time, different outfits, sapphire blue dress with a pearl necklace, some dark smokey eye thing, a suit with an impeccable cut, a shirt buttoned down scandalously. Kara watches her, and to the photographer’s chagrin, Lena watches in return. Eventually Kara gets flustered and goes, mouthing she'll meet her later, and she does.

Lena returns to the dressing room not too long after, in a slinky crimson dress, lips painted bright red. Another string of pearls. She wears dress gloves.

“You look like Ms. Scarlet. Or like you should be draped over a piano at a lounge bar. Lighting a cigarette and singing.”

“And people thought my family was awful. Wait until they hear me sing. Ms. Scarlet isn’t too far off, though.”

Kara smiles, watching her go behind the silk screen again, to change into her final outfit for the interview. “I’ve heard you sing.” Lena snickers and Kara sees the dress fall in a puddle to her feet on the floor beneath the screen. “I can’t wait to see those pictures.”

“I should have pulled you into them with me. You look fantastic.”

“I didn’t pick this outfit out.”

“Really? You could have fooled me. Blue’s your color.”

Kara laughs stiltedly. “Uh. It looks better on you.”

“Mh.” She comes out, dressed in a white blouse, black dress jacket and skirt. She steps into the high heels the wardrobe department has set out for her. Kara always forgets how small she is when she’s not in heels. “What do you think? Hair up or hair down?” She glances at them in the vanity mirror. “They’re letting me choose, can you believe it? I’m so used to being their Barbie when I’m doing these things.”

“I think they know you can pull both off.”

“What do you prefer?” She asks, sweeping the hair up, letting it fall to her shoulders.

“Oh.” Kara stands awkwardly, realizes, settles her hands on her hips, sees her reflection, lets her arms fall lifelessly to her side. “I prefer both.”

Lena smiles at her in the mirror. “You’re no help.”

“So you’ve said.” She fiddles with her hands, hopes Lena doesn’t recall that rainy night, asking Supergirl where to move the Girl of Steel statue. “Or so I’ve heard. A lot. From … people.” 

“They’re all wrong, of course.” Lena starts to put her hair up. Kara watches her, still watches her as the crew comes in to mic them up. The interview’s only minutes away. “Are you feeling a little better about this?”

“I am.” She stands beside her. “I know I can do this.”

“That’s my girl.”

She blushes. “It’s just hard when I don’t feel like I earned it.”

“We’ve talked about this.” She bumps her shoulder. “Maybe this was thrown in your lap. Maybe Snapper is expecting you to fail— but I doubt it. Why want for you to blow the interview?”

“With such a hot ticket item.”

“Right.” She squeezes her fingers. 

“I know you said that I should use our connection to my benefit, but I don’t want to keep doing that to help my ‘career’. What we’ve built is too special.” She takes a breath and stops herself from crossing her arms. “I’m going to do this interview, but I’m going to prove to Snapper it wasn’t a mistake. I’ve been given an opportunity. And no matter what I think about it… I shouldn’t squander it.” She sighs a little. “I should reward their faith. I should prove it to myself. I can build from this. And whatever comes, I’ll know I earned it.”  

“Does this mean you're going to stop writing puff pieces on me?” She pouts, before breaking into a smile. “I've always thought our professional relationship has been mutually beneficial. But I understand your position. I know what it's like to wonder if you could have done it on your own. Everyone always questions me about L-Corp, if it would be the company it is without Lex. That's part of the reason I thought I needed to rebrand it. Not just to signal that we were a different company with different ideals. But I needed to know I could do it on my own. So we’ll cool it. You know I'll stand by you no matter what.”

Kara isn't sure. She knows Lena would stand by Kara Danvers. But what if she knew how often and how effortlessly she’s lied to her? Can she be the person Lena believes she is if she’s hidden this other part of herself? If she’s made her believe she’s another person entirely? Would she be as warm to her then? Lillian said not. But maybe Lillian was trying to scare her. Make her anxious. It's worked. “I know.”

There's a knock on the door and they take the elevator up to where the interview will be hosted. Lena smiles. Kara focuses on steadying her breathing, smiling at Lena's reassurances, despite not being able to tell her it's the enclosed space that's making her anxious.

They make their way to the interview space. The camera crew points out the cameras. This is different than when she made a plea to National City to not give in to Myriad. Everything’s easier as Supergirl. When she can hide behind the mask. Or maybe Kara’s the mask. She doesn’t know anymore. Lena takes a seat on one chair, and Kara sits opposite of her, a small coffee table with flowers on it between them. Kara thinks of plumerias. When Lena gave them to her, she looked them up, delving into their symbolism. Plumerias are said to represent devotion, other times immortality and grace. She never feels graceful as Kara Danvers.

The interview will start in a minute. She tells herself to breathe. One of the crew comes by and sets down a glass of water for Lena. She chats amiably with him. Kara swallows and stares at the questions in hand. She will not stammer. She will be graceful, like a plumeria. 

Thirty seconds until the interview begins. She looks around the room. So many people gathered to watch her. Lena looks cool as a cucumber. She feels like a wreck. She tries to think of how to begin. She should have thought of that. She’s bad at this. Maybe she’ll start with… _I’m Kara Danvers with CatCo Media doing an exclusive with Ms. Luthor._ No. Ms. Luthor doesn’t work. What if Lena recognizes it as the way that Supergirl says it? She tries to scheme up another few possibilities, doesn’t pick up her own glass of water, afraid that nerves will shatter it. She catches motion from the corner of her eye, sees James, waving a phone at her. She sees, from here, that it says ‘Alex calling’. Kara shakes her head. James brings the phone over. He reaches behind her, unplugs her mic, whispers in her ear. “I think you have to take this.”

Twenty seconds. Lena looks over at her, curious. The crew tries to wave James away. He goes. She lifts the phone to her ear but doesn’t say anything.

_Kara? There’s a bomb. Winn tried to get a hold of you but there’s no time. It looks like it’s that crazy cult guy. It’s in a stadium. I’m on my way but I'm not sure I can make it on time._

“How long do we have?” She asks.

One of the crew barks out ten seconds.

_Maybe just minutes. It could wipe out a whole city block, Kara._

Lena looks at her. Kara stands on shaky legs. She pulls the mic off. “I have to go,” she doesn’t know who she says it to. She hands the equipment to one of the guys, walks past Snapper.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, Danvers?” 

She doesn’t answer.

_What the hell?_ They talk amongst themselves. _She’s so fucked. Why was she doing this interview to begin with? I_ _ **cannot**_ _believe she hasn’t been fired. Cat once fired a girl for bringing her Dunkin’ Donuts coffee._

“If you leave here don’t bother coming back,” Snapper says.

It should scare her. It does scare her. She goes.

 

X

Mon-El was with her the last time she was exposed to kryptonite. Rhea cut her face with a kryptonite sai. The death of Krypton resulted in the end of Daxam. What must have it been like to see the embers of your enemy’s planet rain down on you? Rain down the poison that can kill them? They collected it to kill someone like her. Kara Danvers doesn’t hurt from kryptonite.

Supergirl can’t breathe. Can’t move. This must be what it feels like to have your flesh sliced away. The Cult of Rao looks at her, alarmed and disappointed, their fallen God.

Coville was in a frenzy when she arrived at the stadium. He kneeled with his cult, hands tightly clasped, praying to her. His face lit up at her arrival.

_What are you doing?_ She demanded. _I told you to stop all of this!_

He looked up at her, beaming. _But She’s arrived! Haven’t you seen Her signs? She’s awoken! The End of Days are here! We need more of the faithful than ever. We need believers! And you’re going to have them. Fifteen thousand of them!_

Supergirl gasps for breath. The cult members whisper amongst themselves, fighting with fragile belief. _She was supposed to be a god. Gods don’t hurt. Gods don’t fail._ Some of them run. Coville sinks to his knees at her side. He’s rankled. He reaches out as if to touch her but can’t. “Supergirl, I know you can save them. You’re supposed to save them. You’re supposed to save all of us! I still believe in you!”

The kryptonite courses through her. Her veins are lit green, blood runs down her nose. _You have to run,_ she wants to say, but she can’t say anything. One of the cult members stoops beside her. A blonde. Olivia? She touches her fingers to Supergirl’s nose. They come back red. “She’s bleeding.” She tells the others, looking at the blood as if it were sin. “She’s not a god.”

“No!” Coville says to her. “This is a test! She is seeing if we are worthy!”

“She’s not a god,” she says, crestfallen.

“Run,” Supergirl says, though the word is cracked and weak. 

They run past Alex, who enters, an assault rifle primed. She looks at her. “You okay?” Supergirl is spent. Grunts, nods her head, maybe. Alex turns to Coville, aims the weapon at him. Supergirl moves her fingers, they jerk, refusing to obey her. She doesn’t give up. Finally she’s able to touch Alex’s boot. Alex doesn’t notice. She looks at the BetaHedron bomb and back to Coville. “Turn it off!”

“No, no, no, you’re ruining it!” He says. “She is our savior! She is the one we will follow. We need believers. I will be Her shepherd!” 

Alex cocks the gun.

“Alex,” Supergirl manages. “Alex, please.” She crawls for what feels like ages but only gets as far as an inch.

“If they don’t believe in Her, She will win.” Coville says.

“Enough bullshit. If you don’t disarm it, I will blow your brains out and disarm it myself.” 

Coville hadn’t listened to her before. Maybe he didn’t believe Supergirl would harm him. Maybe he had too much faith in her. Maybe he’s just afraid of bullets. 

“You can’t be her shepherd if you’re both dead,” she tells him.

“Do it,” Supergirl says. “I can’t save you.” His eyes widen in fear. Her words are tight and broken. “I can’t save us.”

He takes a long breath, eyes filled with tears. Scrambles to the BetaHedron bomb, disarms it. Supergirl doesn’t breathe easier. It’s been so long since she felt pain. It makes it impossible to think. To function. She doesn’t know how to move her fingers. The pain has overloaded her into numbness once more.

“It’s disarmed.” He comes back to her side, takes her hands in his. “I know we can overcome this. I will be your shepherd in the dark days ahead, Kara Danvers.” She squeezes her eyes shut. His hand is clammy. “I still believe in you.”

There’s a whack and a thud. She opens her eyes. Coville’s on the floor, temple bleeding. Alex stands over him, looks to Supergirl. “He’ll survive,” she says.

X

  _Kara, don’t go._ Alex said. _You need to rest._

_I’m going._

Her nose won’t stop bleeding. Walking hurts. She can’t get warm. Coville’s being held by the DEO in one of those glass cells. He was small and scared. His forehead had a bump the size of an egg. She wishes she’d thought to call NCPD, but she hadn’t wanted to endanger more lives. Coville’s dangerous, a raving lunatic, but he deserves more than being locked away indefinitely. Than being beaten.

_Grow up, Supergirl! These people aren’t like you and me. He was willing to risk thousands of lives to make believers! He’s delusional! You are not a god. No matter what you think, no matter what he thinks, you are not untouchable. If it weren’t for me, you’d be dead, all those people would be dead._

Who did Coville mean? What End of Days? She wonders if the grainy footage Winn got of the bank robber is the same woman who’s been committing those heinous crimes in National City. But it doesn’t line up. What signs? Maybe Coville’s not well.

She takes a taxi back to CatCo. She doesn’t know how long has passed. She rests against the cool of the window and drifts in and out of sleep, the pain a strange soporific. Streaks of color light up the night. Pain is a kind of melody. Hey. Hey!

Kara snaps awake. The cab driver is looking at her. “You’re here.” A moment. “You look awful.”

She’s wearing the interview clothes from CatCo so she can only assume he means physically. “I’m okay, thank you.” She realizes she doesn’t have her purse, her wallet, phone, anything. She hailed him off the street. She’s mortified. “Um. I’m sorry— I just realized— I don’t have my purse. I don’t have… money.”

“Are you for real right now?”

“I am— I am so sorry,” she stammers. “Can I get a card— I’ll bring you the money, I’ll — I’ll bring you three times the fare and with a tip—”

“That’s theft of services—”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I could call the police and get you charged. You wasted my time. You wasted my gas. I could have been earning money! You knew you didn’t have money when you stepped in this cab. Did you steal those clothes, too?”

“No, I—”

“Get the hell out of my cab before I change my mind and call the police.” She’s frozen with shock. “Get out!”

Kara memorizes the cab number and gets out. He speeds off. She’s still for minutes, trying to find the energy to move again. Is this what humans complain about when they haven’t had their morning coffee? When they’re hungover? Her heart is beating too hard. She’s sweating. She hates kryptonite. She hates that it makes her human. Being human seems uncomfortable. 

She drags herself to the CatCo doors. She’s dreading the elevator ride. She’s dreading the conversation she’ll have with Snapper. She let Snapper down. She let Cat down. She let—

Lena sits in the lobby, browsing on her phone. A white box sits at her feet. She looks up and sees her. Kara recognizes the items in the box. They’re her things. The few things she had on her desk. The few prints she hanged on her walls. The small cactus. Kara takes a step back. Lena stands. She picks the box up and walks to her.

Kara thinks she’s crying but she’s paralyzed and silent. She wants to take the box from Lena but isn’t sure she has the strength to carry it. Her phone is in the box, facedown on top of her notebook. Lena studies her. What does she see? Her pale face? The wan pink of her lips? The before picture? Moments pass with nothing said. “How did the interview go?” Kara asks, but barely recognizes her wobbly voice.

“We got it done.” Her gaze and voice are gentle. She flicks her eyes to the box and back to Kara. “My driver’s waiting outside. I wasn’t sure if you’d be back but I wanted to wait.” 

Kara lifts her eyes, focuses on the lights, hope that will stop the tears. No, that’s for sneezing. That’s the trick for sneezing. She never sneezes. There are no tears. She’s forgotten how to cry. She takes a shuddering breath, lowers her face. Sees the thorns of the cactus. “Did you clean out my desk?”

“With James’ help, yes.” 

Kara furrows her brow, sees dried blood on her fingertips. Wipes at it. “I really wanted to be here.”

“I know,” Lena says. Kara exhales unevenly. Another long silence passes. The lobby is abandoned save for the guard at the security desk. “Let me take you home.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“I want to. You do owe me a few hours.”

Kara doesn’t have it in herself to smile. She nods. They walk out. Heels are uncomfortable. She wants to take them off. “I can take that box.”

“Don’t be silly; this is the most exercise I’ve gotten in a week. Let me fool myself into thinking I’m getting some cardio in.” The car pulls around and Lena settles the box in the back. She lets Kara get into the car before she slides in next to her. Shuts the door. “Seatbelt.” Kara looks at her. She could die if they got into an accident tonight. Would that be so bad? It’s strange being mortal. Lena reaches across, grabs the seatbelt, clicks it into place. She’s wearing the watch. She’s wearing the watch Supergirl gave her. Kara looks at her while Lena adjusts the seatbelt so it’s resting on her shoulder, not her neck. Her hand lingers on her shoulder, as if to steady her, and then it’s gone. “We’re going to mine, all right?”

She’s too tired to fight. “Okay.”

Lena tells the driver. He pulls off the curb. The partition goes up. “The guest room is prepared. No couch for you.”

She leans into the door again. The pins in her hair are killing her. She’s lost her job. The job she should have lost long ago. Snapper and Cat’s faith weren’t enough. Lena’s faith wasn’t enough. She disappointed them. She destroyed Kara Danvers’ livelihood for nothing. It should hurt. Or maybe she can’t tell through all the other hurt. “Aren’t you going to ask where I was?”

It’s dark. The night passes by in a blur. Strangers. Cars. Nothing’s clear.

“Do you want me to ask?”

Kara feels her gaze. She closes her eyes.

“I don’t know where you were. But whatever the reason, Kara? It was worth it to you and that’s what matters. But there are trades. There are consequences for our actions. This was yours.”

She still hears Alex’s voice in her mind. _Supergirl didn’t save anybody tonight._ “Yeah.”

Lena’s hand settles over hers. It’s warm. She’s never noticed how warm, before. How soft. The kryptonite destroys her— but it weakens her enough to feel more. Lena twines their fingers. Kara feels her pressure without having to focus. “What matters is that you came back.”

“I didn’t come back to anything.”

“You came back to me.”

X

Kara showers. She pushes through the pain to feel the variance in temperatures. Water pelts against her skin, cold and hot. She exits the shower, feeling like the Little Mermaid. Each footstep is like walking on knives. She winces but doesn’t whimper, slipping into the bathrobe Lena left for her, large and fluffy, soft and warm. She cinches the belt around her waist and runs a hand through her hair. 

Her glasses are foggy and she can’t see through them. She thinks of setting them aside but she can’t. She keeps them on, but leaves the hairclips on the sink counter. She wipes the steam from the mirror. She’s pale. She rarely wears makeup. She doesn’t have to, except maybe now. She exits the bathroom. 

Lena’s at the bedroom door with a tray of tea. She’s wearing a periodic elements shirt and sweat pants. Kara didn’t hear her coming. She didn’t hear the kettle or the clink of porcelain. It makes her feel blind, or maybe just removed. For a time, she can keep the world at bay.

“Should I give you another few minutes?”

“No,” Kara says. “Please come in. It’s your home.”

“This might as well be your bedroom. No one else ever stays over.” She sets the tray on the bed, points to the other corner. “I’ve brought you pajamas, whenever you’re ready to turn in.”

No one has ever cared for her like this outside of family. Emotion makes her throat stick. “Thank you. For all of this.”

“Of course.”

“Please— please sit.” Kara gestures to the bed. They sit at the same time. Lena’s never seen her with her hair loose. It looks different now. It’s darker when it’s wet. More of a dirty blonde than golden. It’s fine. “The tea smells delicious.”

“I wanted something to keep you warm.”

Kara smiles faintly. Maybe for another few hours. It won’t last. “I know I haven’t been myself tonight.” She’s felt tired and hopeless. Maybe being Supergirl doesn’t let her process those dark feelings. How can she when energy is always flowing through her? When she can’t hurt? Maybe the sun is her own mood regulator. She flexes her jaw, exhales slowly. “I just…” Lena waits. Kara shakes her head. “I’m really disappointed.” She blinks her eyes quickly, takes a breath. “I let myself get excited about this and I let everyone down.” The Cult. Alex. Coville. Lena. Snapper. Cat. CatCo. “Myself most of all.” Her breath hitches. “Sometimes it’s too much.”

Lena scoots closer, looks at her. “What is?”

_Everything._ She shakes her head again. “It’s one of those days where I feel like I can be knocked over with a feather.”

Lena makes a face. “And I haven’t built a feather-deflector machine yet. I guess I’ll be your bodyguard in the meantime.” She looks at her, tracing the rim of one of the cups. “Kara, you had a hard day. You don't have to put on appearances to make _me_ feel better. I’m with you, however you are. Feel how you feel.”

Her stomach hurts. Fingers hurt. Head hurts. She knows it’ll be gone in a few hours, but every passing second is torture in the meantime. She picks up the tea and burns her tongue, frowns. “It’s hot.” She doesn’t want to feel any of these things. Not this intensely.

A quizzical smile. “You don’t have my ironclad tongue.” She has a drink. “I could always drink my coffee and tea hotter than anyone else. They thought I was a madwoman. Or was it the surname?” She muses. 

“They were just impressed by you.” Lena’s still wearing the watch. When did she start wearing it? “Is that… is that watch what I think it is?”

“Oh, this?” She smiles, touches it, lovingly. “It _is._ It does feel a bit like being handed the Excalibur. I never imagined I’d be the one to wield it.” She looks at it a moment longer and then back to Kara. “Supergirl wanted me to have it.”

“Wow.” Kara says. “I mean…” Lena waits. Kara considers. It terrifies her that Lena should wear it. Maybe she shouldn’t have offered it. What if there’s kryptonite near Lena and she can’t save her? What if it cripples her? What if she lets Lena die? She thinks of Mon-El, rubs her fingers together. What if _Lena_ has to watch _her_ die? And then she later realizes that Kara Danvers is also gone? How awful would that make Lena feel? “She must think highly of you.” 

“The feeling’s mutual. I took it off tonight before the photoshoot and interview. I didn’t want to put her in a bad position. A Super offering a Luthor this. It’s not something I take lightly, and it’s nothing the world would take lightly. For good reason.”

“You’ll prove them wrong.”

“You sound like her.” Kara grips the cup tighter. It doesn’t yield. “You’re both trusting to a fault. I’d never betray her trust that way but… ”

“But?”

“But people need to believe in her.” Lena says. Kara bows her face. “If she's connected to me they might believe in her less. I can’t be a part of that. Her life is hard enough as it is.”

“That’s… How do you figure?”

Lena shrugs. “Just a guess.” A smile. “But an informed guess, given what the two of us have been through.” Kara looks at her. “Supergirl and I,” she clarifies. “I usually see her when things are going to hell. So as nice as the gesture is… I hope I won’t have to use it. I’ve already promised myself that I won’t think of it, unless death is imminent.”

“That’s a little harsh,” Kara takes another careful drink. “Did she say anything like that to you?” She flushes, rubs at her forehead. She’s a liar. A monster. Manipulative. She’s making a fool of Lena. She was so angry at Mon-El when she found out who he really was. “She probably wants you to use it whenever you need her.” 

“What do you need, Kara?”

She doesn’t know. Whatever it is, she probably can’t say. It can’t ever be given to her. Maybe rest. Maybe a long sleep. She bites her lower lip, feels it split. Such a small, common pain, flares too brightly for her. 

Lena has a napkin at the ready, slides closer. Their knees touch. “Hey, let me.”

“No, it’s—” 

“Kara. This I can do.” She lowers the napkin, lifts her face, looks away. “I’m probably smothering you. I’ve never had anyone to care for. Not really. Jack and I were… young. Lex was older. Mother is… capable. My real mother is dead. So I have plants… and employees.” She smiles wryly. “I practically kidnapped you tonight. I guess it does run in the family.”

“No, no.” She takes a breath. “It’s hard for me to…” She tries to think of how to say it and discovers she doesn't know how to tell Lena that her walls come down around her, too. How she feels both vulnerable and strong when they're together. How hard it is sometimes, to not give herself to something wrong and irresponsible. If she doesn’t say it, she can keep her armor. She needs it now more than ever. “Come on.” She taps her leg gently. Lena doesn’t respond. It must feel like a normal tap. “Let’s play nurse.”

“You know that’s not the expression,” Lena says with a smile. Kara knows. “I'll be right back.” She disappears into the bathroom, returning promptly with a first aid kit. “It's right beneath the sink if you ever need it. I should have told you from the beginning.” She opens the white box with the Red Cross, taking out ointment, a liquid strip. One more trip and she's washed her hands and returned with a cold compress. 

“I know now.”

Lena smiles, palms her face, dabs delicately at her lip. It’s a gentle pressure, mingled with pain. Something about it is nice. Kara sighs softly. Lena's eyes flick to hers before returning to the task at hand. Her fingers brush Kara’s hair. Maybe she's tired, maybe the curve of her face fits perfectly in Lena's palm. It’s restful. She isn't sure whether she's leaning into her, whether they're leaning into one another. “Does it hurt?” Her voice is quiet.

It almost sounds like a come-on. It should be followed with _when you fell from Heaven_. Except with her it'd be the stars, her world, and yes, it hurt, it still hurts. It will always hurt. Lena can’t say stuff like that. Lena doesn't believe in heaven, or putting her on the spot. Or cheesy come-ons. “A little.”

“And here I was hoping to be gentle.”

“You always are.”

Another brief smile, her gaze drifts. Kara isn't sure what she's looking at. That scar, maybe, the one day she ran in Krypton and fell on her face as a child. It was one of the last times she bled. “All done.” Lena pulls back, cautiously presses a liquid bandage to the cut, smoothing it gently, thumb easing over her lower lip. “You'll be as good as new in no time.” She grazes her wrist, leaves the bed to put everything away. When she returns she touches the remote on the nightstand. “You can shut the blinds now if you'd like.” She nods to the glass wall. “The sun streams in, in the morning. You can almost see where those old stories of gods came from. The sunrise is breathtaking. But it’ll wake you if you're not an early bird.”

“It sounds really nice.”

“Yeah.” She holds on to the control. “Not to bore you with the usual platitudes, but tomorrow is a new day, Kara. The sun will shine. The world will keep spinning. You'll feel better; I promise.”

“I know I will.” This is it. Isn’t this what she’s wanted? A reason to be away from CatCo. A way to shed the last vestiges of that human persona. What other job could she get? No one’s going to give her a good recommendation. She would have to leave constantly. There will be no one to cover for her. She thinks that if she hadn’t gone to the stadium, if she’d stayed for the interview, that would have been a sign that she was meant to be Kara Danvers. That she was meant to have this life. _A_ life. Rewarding. Fulfilling. She and Lena would have gone to dinner afterward to unwind. She went to the stadium, but she went for nothing. She accomplished nothing. She could have not gone. But that wasn’t a choice. It never is. She always has to go. And now she has the time to always patrol. To always be vigilant. Why doesn’t she feel better?

Lena takes the tray. “I'll get all of this out of your way.” 

Kara stands, nearly falls, having slipped into the numbness of pain. She clutches the nightstand, experiences a sense of horror, waiting for it to splinter into toothpicks at her hard fall. It's still. She may hurt this way, but she's closer to human. Maybe that’s a sign, too. Lena would laugh at signs. “I’m okay.” She bashfully makes sure her robe is properly secured.

Lena averts her eyes. “I'll put this away and come say goodnight. Get into your pajamas and open this when you're ready.” She exits, teetering with the tray, shutting the door with the other hand.

Kara stands, squeezes her eyes shut. She drops the robe, the cold air hitting her skin, making her shiver. She slips into the pajama pants, smiling at the Jurassic Park logo shirt. She thinks about humans with bad backs, weak knees, bad discs, illness, the pain they must be in. The addiction they succumb to when trying to ease their pain. There is nothing to ease hers. Sunlight, maybe, but it’s still dark. She could have stayed under the sunlamps at the DEO but she couldn’t stay. She had to get back to CatCo. For what? _For Lena._ The journey to the door is an odyssey. She opens it. Lena's just coming down the hall. “Hey,” Kara says.

“Hi.” 

Her stomach flutters. “I’m going to turn in. Thank you for your help today.”

“I’m making you breakfast tomorrow.”

Arguing won’t get her anywhere. “Can I help?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You're quite the hostess.”

“You're my favorite guest.” She comes closer. Kara wants to reach for her but she doesn't. She's grateful knowing that Lena won't reach for her either. Not tonight. Maybe never. Lena who is always gentle. “Kara.” She looks serious, brow furrowed, studying her own hands. Kara lets the silence pass. Eventually Lena looks up at her. “When you’re feeling better… there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

She isn’t sure what she feels. Curiosity? Dread? Even the good things inspire a kind of anxiety. “Okay.” A beat. “But I’m feeling well enough that we can talk now if you’d like.” It’s not true. Her head feels like it’s being slammed with sledgehammers. She decides it doesn’t matter. 

“No, no, it can wait.”

“Is everything okay?”

She hesitates. “Yeah. I promise. You call me if you need anything, all right? Even if you have a nightmare.”

What would the world think if they knew how Lena dotes? “You too.” She wrings her own hands. “Okay, goodnight.”

“Night, Kara.” She leaves her. 

Kara grips the doorway, takes a step into the hall. Another spike of pain. “Do you want to watch the sunrise tomorrow morning? In here, I mean. If you’re awake.”

“I’d like that.”

She can’t say it’s a date. Think it's a date. She doesn’t get to date. Maybe with the loss of her job, it's the end of CatCo, the end of Kara Danvers. She can fully commit to being the idea that is Supergirl. Maybe she's trying to enjoy one last day with Lena. Tomorrow is a new day. Supergirl will be better. Stronger. Faster. This was one slip. It won’t happen again. It can’t happen again.

x  
  


* * *

* * *

 

A/N: Decided to go with comic book canon for this go round, even if the material there is *thin*. There will be no sexy dinosaur babes in leotards, though.

As you may have noticed, in this story, kryptonite isn't the Kryptonian equivalent of allergies.

 


	9. Time and Space

FALSE GOD

The Girl of Steel statue bleeds the words, spray painted red. The gifts and cards that had been offered are now scattered and strewn at the base of the statue. Did the cultists do this, or was it the National City citizens that have turned against her? Maybe those responsible are the ones J’onn has warned her about. The ones who smile to her face, but fear her power. Supergirl grits her jaw. Has Lena seen this? Does Lena agree? Does _she_ agree? 

It’s confusing. She hates confusing. Supergirl has clear purpose. The pettiness of humans does not and cannot concern her. She rises into the sky, until what’s beneath her is small, only observable to someone like her. 

She flies until she’s in another city, another state, another nation, another continent, halfway across the world. It’s daylight here. There is always light somewhere in the world. It fuels her. She never has to stop. There will always someone to save.

X 

Xièxie. Efharisto. Arigato. Gracias. Spasibo. Urakoze. Merci. Motashakr awi. Danke. Takk. Grazie.

Supergirl walks paved roads, cobblestones, sand and dirt trails. She plays soccer with children in Mexico, hockey in Germany, basketball in Italy, cricket in Africa. The children always win. Children are easier. 

Maybe she’s in arrested development. Maybe that’s what happens when you’re trapped in the Phantom Zone for decades. Kal’s father, Jor-El, created that place. No aging. No need for sustenance. Prisoners and criminals were cast there. He said it was a peaceful prison. Alone. No contact. Just left to watch and float. Forced to become phantoms. Eventually Fort Rozz was sent there.

Maybe that’s why she is the way that she is. Studies show what isolation does to a person. People are meant to be social. Segregation destabilizes them. Sometimes it makes them feral. Was she there too long? Her family has harmed so many, no matter their intentions. Why is Kal normal, when she’s not? He doesn’t remember Krypton. He doesn’t remember his family. It doesn’t weigh him down. But emptiness is heavy, too. She has known isolation longer than she knew Krypton, longer than she’s known Earth. Is that why she can’t bear to be alone, could never interact with another person again and not feel it?

She wanders at light speed.

She carries airplanes. She plucks men, women and children from the ravages of floods. She doesn’t save everyone. She finds small bodies snapped on trees. Others float. She once said that there is so much love in this world, out there for the taking. But there’s also grief, hurt, and loss. She kneels by men who have tripped off landmines, their legs blown off. They have minutes, their chances of survival are non-existent. She holds their hands, and memorizes the words they say, the words she doesn’t yet speak. She closes their eyes and takes their remains to their families, where they shout and scream and cry and swing at her. She knows how life can betray you. She hopes they feel better, when they smash their fists against her and meet an unstoppable force.

Everything bends to her. Nothing resists. There’s nothing to stop her from freefalling.

X

The symbol is Kryptonian. 

Supergirl sees it plastered on an electronic billboard in a language she doesn’t understand. Cars smoke around her, police officers with batons and yellow vests, apprehending the criminals she’s rounded up. Men and women chatter excitedly. She gives them a fleeting glance before launching into the sky, moving closer to the image blasted on the building. She reads ‘National City’ on the chyron. Minutes later she’s back there.

Day gives way to night. The skull screams, as if the very heat that branded it, caused it pain. Or maybe it’s a threat. Her cape billows in the wind. The hair on her neck stands on end. Someone’s watching her. She turns but sees only darkness.

It must have been nothing.

X

The stench of blood and burning flesh calls her. Supergirl lands at the docks. Guns and cash litter the ground. There are cars riddled with bullet holes, shell casings. Other bullets have been pounded flat. A creep of dread moves through her. There are pieces of people on the ground, guts are spilled, jaws ripped off. Their eyes are wide open, frozen in terror. There is heat and fire, as if the very earth were breaking open.

She looks around, horrified. She’s careful, not wanting to disturb evidence. Nothing human did this. She’s staring into a chest cavity when the flash of blue and red rouses her. NCPD officers filter out of their squad cars, guns pointed at her. Someone gets on a bullhorn. “Hands up, Supergirl.”

She doesn't obey. “I didn’t do this.” What she wants to say is that even if she had, there would be nothing they could do. What will they do with their guns? What _can_ they do against her? Nothing.

“Hands up!”

Supergirl clenches her jaw, lifts her hands, hopes they won’t shoot, can’t guarantee something won’t bounce back to kill them if they do. Officers approach, guns and flashlights pointed at her face. She doesn’t flinch at either. A K-9 unit arrives and dogs bark, pulling the officers after them as they find duffle bags, trunks filled with packs of drugs. 

They talk amongst themselves. _Do you think she actually did this? Jesus, how many are there? I’m going to be sick._ She hears them puke, hold back their vomit. _Shit, we’re trampling all over evidence. How is there this much blood? Are those guts? It smells like burned meat._

“Turn around,” one of the officers says to her. He’s holding cuffs.

“Seriously?”

“ _Turn around.”_ He repeats. Supergirl turns around. “Hands down behind your back. No sudden moves.” She laughs caustically. _You have got to be kidding me._ They have to know, that if she’d actually done this, she could do the same to all these police officers just as quickly. “Now, Supergirl.”

She lowers her arms, hands behind her back. He places the cuffs on her. Maybe that makes him feel better. Safer. She’s still. How is this happening. The dogs continue to bark, police officers finding packs of drugs. She tries to calm herself. What is she supposed to do if they try to take her in? This can’t happen. She breathes in, breathes out.

_Hey, is this that gang? Holy shit! Somebody finally put them down._ They laugh. _Good job, Supergirl._

Supergirl shifts, hears the metal of the handcuffs straining, tries to be more careful. She doesn’t want them to think she’s resisting arrest or trying to escape. She hopes they let her out. She looks around. CSI has arrived, cameras in hand, looking curiously at her before turning their attention to the bodies. One has been decapitated. She looks for a head but doesn’t see one. Only sees gunk. Newly arriving officers are throwing up into the water.

It smells awful. She tries to focus on the smell of the salty water instead. She closes her eyes. _What’s going on?_ She hears. _Why is Supergirl handcuffed?_ The officer tries to explain that Supergirl was here before anyone else, the amount of destruction, the kind of destruction. By the time Maggie gets to her, the other officers are smiling, shaking their heads. _They said we’d never bring them in. Guess the joke’s on them._ “Supergirl,” Maggie says.

Supergirl opens her eyes and looks at her. She’s paler than usual. Maybe a scene like this disgusts her. It feels like months since she’s seen her but knows it hasn’t been that long. “Detective Sawyer.”

“I see you’re back in National City.” Supergirl shifts again, hears the handcuffs clink. “I know you didn’t do this.” 

Supergirl exhales slowly. “Who are they?” She asks looking at the bodies.

“1-7 gang. They traffic drugs and kill anyone who gets in their way. They killed a shop keeper a few days ago.” A few days ago. Where was she…? The Philippines. There was a tsunami. “We’ve only ever been able to catch the low-level guys. A lot of the faces here were up top. Faces we can recognize, anyway. Christ, I don’t think dental records are going to help for this.”

“This must be that Kryptonian Lord was talking about. The one taking out sinners.”

“I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“I have.” She clenches her jaw again. More images she won’t be able to get out of her head. “Is the NCPD going to let me go?”

“It’s not like we can stop you if you want to take off.” Maggie looks around. Supergirl follows her gaze. There are tendrils of smoke rising from the ground. It’s gone through some of the bodies. “Wait here.” Maggie follows the smoke, walks the perimeter, carefully stepping over bodies and puddles of blood. She waves the officers back. Returns back to Supergirl after she’s fished a key away from the arresting officer. She undoes the handcuffs. Supergirl shrugs her shoulders, looks at her. “I’m going to need you to get up there and tell me what you see.” Supergirl stares back at her. “I think it may be that symbol again.”

“The Kryptonian one.”

Maggie processes that. “Yeah.”

“Are your pals okay with me checking it out?”

Maggie thins her lips. She holds something back. She looks back at the officers. Their guns are lowered anyway. “They’re good.”

Supergirl bolts into the air. Looks down. There it is, branded into the ground, cut through flesh and bone, soaked in blood. The shrieking skull. Her chest tightens, nose flaring. “It’s the same symbol,” she calls down to Maggie. “Am I under arrest?”

“No. Supergirl—”

Supergirl leaves without another word. 

X

Night gives way to day. Sun filters in through the curtains, too bright. Sam presses her face to the pillow, hugging it close. She needs sleep. Mom. She ignores the noise and burrows under the blankets. Mom. Go away. Mom!

The blankets are ripped away. Sam opens one eye, sees Ruby standing to the side of the bed, her expression something between exasperation and worry. “What.”

“You’ve been in bed all day.”

“No, I haven’t. What time—” what day—

“It’s two o’clock. It’s Saturday.”

“Ruby, that's crazy. It is not—”

Ruby takes hold of the clock on the nightstand and turns it to face her. It’s 2:17pm. “There’s nothing to eat. I’m hungry.” Sam forces herself to sit up. Her body aches, eyes burn as if she’s been maced. “Can we get something to eat, please? Your phone hasn’t stopped ringing.” She brings it to her. Sam sets it face down on the nightstand. “What’s going on with you? You’re acting weird.”

“ _Weird_? I’m just sleeping, honey.” She yawns. “Come here,” she tugs her into the bed and Ruby gets in, pouting still. “I never sleep in this late. Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”

“I tried.” Sam strokes the pillow. She tries to remember when she came to bed, but can’t remember. “I thought you were going to work less now that everyone doesn’t hate Lena anymore.” Sam takes the pillow and buries her head beneath it. Ruby takes it and throws it to the side. “Mom, please. I don’t want to be the adult today.”

Sam looks at her, feels a pang in her chest. The hard work, long days and nights, the sacrifice— all so that Ruby could be a kid, wouldn’t have to worry. Despite that, Ruby’s sacrificed too, switching schools, being exposed to so much trauma since moving to National City. Sam pulls her down into a hug. “You’re right. I haven’t been available to you.” Ruby looks back at her, little chin quaking. “Screw it. Pancakes. Do you want pancakes?”

“We don’t have anything for pancakes. I looked earlier.”

“Okay. We’re going to the store. We’ll do a big ass grocery trip. Add whatever you need to the list.”

“We need everything.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” She rubs her eyes. It’s just days until Thanksgiving. The stores are going to be a disaster. “Let me get dressed and we’ll go.”

“Can we put up the Christmas tree later?”

“No, it’s not even Thanksgiving yet. We’re not going to be those people.” And putting up the tree takes forever and she’s tired. She doesn’t understand how she’s this tired. Maybe she has the flu or mono. “Get ready to go.”

“Are you really going to get up?”

“ _Yes,_ Ruby.” Sam says. Ruby goes and Sam lies back down. She picks up her phone, resisting the urge to go back to sleep. She has twenty-four text messages and forty unread e-mails. She bolts to a sitting. There are five ‘past due’ notifications for meetings. She’s missed a call with a prospective start-up, two leadership conference calls, a meeting with the board of directors and an orientation with new L-Corp staff. She goes cold. How did this happen? 

She looks through the text messages. Most of them are from Lena throughout a span of days. The first are checking in, the following asking if she needs to reschedule and the last simply stating that she hopes she’s okay. It’s Saturday. 2:27pm. She searches her mind, tries to remember back further. She remembers … Christ. The last thing she remembers is meeting at Lena’s with Kara and Maggie. Fragments of a business trip. There has to be more.

Did she have a stroke? She gets out of bed and changes, studies herself in the bathroom mirror. She’s never looked better but she feels like the walking dead. What if she doesn't have a job anymore? She waits for dread that doesn't come. If she doesn't have a job, they lose the house, health insurance, the money she's saved for Ruby’s schooling. She falls into destitution, becomes homeless, loses everything that matters.

Despair trickles into her. Her reflection smiles back in the mirror.

X

Supergirl hasn’t slept since Kara Danvers watched the sunrise with Lena. By then the sun had restored her and the only thing capable of penetrating her anymore was Lena’s gaze. The room flooded in pinks, purples and brilliant gold. She watched Lena become several paintings. Better the light and the sun to caress her skin in ways she cannot. Lena fretted over her that morning, but calmed when she saw her lip was intact. _All you needed was a good night’s rest and some tender loving care._

Kara hadn’t known what to say. The only honest word would have been ‘goodbye’ but she couldn’t manage that. Their conversation was frivolous. Meaningless. The kinds of conversations that mean nothing and everything. Supergirl doesn’t have time for frivolous.

She marches into the DEO, past the security, past Alex who won’t stop calling and texting. She knows Coville has guarded his silence since he was shoved into his cell. He will speak to her. She arrives at Coville’s cell and slams the drawing of the sigil against the glass. The glass cracks. Coville doesn’t startle. He remains on the floor, cross legged, smiling up at her. “What is this?” she demands.

He doesn’t respond right away, basking in her attention. He looks awful. He is no longer clean shaven. His face is bruised, but he looks unbothered. She knows that sometimes DEO agents will come in and prod prisoners who are on the verge of falling asleep. Blast loud music. Make them run in place. She doesn’t need sleep. Not like a human does. She can survive without going mad. She spent years awake in a pod, staring at the emptiness of the galaxy. Days and weeks might as well be minutes. “You have recovered and You are ready to accept your destiny.”

She has recovered from the kryptonite. She recalls how the pain turned her into something else. Into something that wished she wasn’t living. “What ‘destiny’? There is no ‘destiny’.” She glowers and steps closer, the glass spiderwebbing. “I have spoken to my mother,” she nearly stumbles. She has spoken to a hologram. “I have gone to the Fortress of Solitude but there is nothing on this. If you know something, tell me now. People are dying.”

“They are. I am your servant. I am happy to help,” he smiles, rises to his feet. He goes to the glass, presses his palm to it. “ _They will receive a blasphemous sigil and in its wake, many cowards, killers and vile men will burn. And every eye will look upon the heretic and they will call it Worldkiller_.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The End of Days. That mark,” he touches the glass, tracing the symbol, “is the mark of a dark god. A devil.”

Supergirl breathes slowly. “There’s nothing like that in the Book of Rao.”

“It predates the Book of Rao.”

“You’re a human. You can’t know that.”

“I told you, I spent years searching the world for relics of Krypton after you saved me. I met people. The forgotten of Fort Rozz. They told me of this prophecy. They spoke to me of arrogant Kryptonian scientists, who had all but turned their back on Rao in their quest to overcome death and ensure Kryptonian supremacy.”

_There’s that famous Kryptonian arrogance,_ Rhea once told her. Mon-El told her the same, too. Every race has called Kryptonians arrogant. It must be true. “Is that all you’ve got for me? Gossip from the convicts of Fort Rozz?”

“I have more than that,” he presses to the glass, trying to meet her gaze.  “This is more than just idle gossip. I have seen the book. I have read it! First, is the mark of the Beast. Followed by the work of the Beast in the form of many deaths.” He smiles. “They’re dying, aren’t they? That’s why you’ve come to me.”

“ _Then_ what?”

“Last is the Reign of the Beast and this is when She comes: Worldkiller. This is Your purpose, to fight the devil. The lost gods must fall for the new god to rise. _You_ are that god. You alone can stop Her. Her rise will come at the fall of the righteous and She will reign unless You stand and smite Her.”

“You’re lying.”

“Why have You come to me if You think I’m lying? You’ve seen Her signs. She’s _here._ That is why I was trying to bring believers to Your cause. Her power is unmatched. But if You are a true god, You will smite her. You will take your rightful place and have dominion over this planet. We will all fall to our knees in worship of our one true god.”

There’s no point arguing with him. “If any of this is true, who is she? Who is this Worldkiller?” He smiles back at her. “Tell me!”

“I don’t know.”

“She’s going to keep killing people?”

“Yes.”

She sees a plastic tray of leftover food sitting in a corner. She shifts her weight. “Are you okay?”

“This is another test. My faith will not waver.”

She leaves the pod and finds Alex and Winn in the War Room. Alex faces her. “I heard everything.” 

“Of course you did. What are you waiting for? Both of you,” Supergirl looks at them. “For once, this is in your purview. There’s a Kryptonian out there and he or— or _she_ is out there killing people.”

“I’ve seen the news reports,” Alex says, “the good news is that at least, the victims are criminals.”

“Meow,” Winn inches away from her.

“No one has the right to cut anyone down,” Supergirl says. “The DEO has to protect everyone, criminal or not.”

“That’s not really how it works, Supergirl.”

“But it _is_ your job to track down aliens. The DEO has never cared whether they’re innocent and this one isn’t. I can’t do it all on my own.”

“It’s about time you realized that,” Alex says. Supergirl looks back at her. “And maybe if you’d spent a little more time in National City, instead of going on a backpacking trip all over the world, whoever this freak is wouldn’t have racked up the deathtoll he or she has.”

Winn looks between them and walks away. 

“I was helping people.”

“Not here.”

“That doesn’t make them less,” Supergirl says. Alex crosses her arms. “I’ve told you; Supergirl belongs to the world. Not to the DEO, not to America, not to your family.” Alex flinches. “Supergirl helps _everyone_.”

“Right, right. Supergirl cares about everybody. Except Kara Danvers and her family. When was the last time we spent any time together?”

“I’m not here to talk about this,” she walks away from her. 

Alex follows. “When are we going to talk about it? I’ve given you more than enough time. Supergirl—” she takes her arm. Supergirl keeps it still, knows if she yanks, Alex’s arm will come with it. “I _know_ you’ve been going to Winn for help. You won’t even work with me anymore?”

“It’s not personal.”

“How is it not personal?” Her words are quiet, but her eyes are heated. “For nearly two years _this_ is all I’ve seen. You won’t come to me. You won’t let me go to you. It’s getting worse. Supergirl isn’t a person.”

“Then what is she?” Supergirl snaps. “An alien? A weapon?”

“An idea. A symbol. And for you— maybe a sanctuary. But I miss my sister.” The words tremble. “I know you lost your job.” Supergirl curls her fingers. “I know how much that job meant to you. I know you haven’t been home in weeks. I know that you can’t keep still and you’re restless. K—” Supergirl scowls. “Supergirl. I’ve known that too. I know what it’s like to want to hide from the world and not be myself because it’s safer—”

“This _is_ who I am—”

“Not all of it. You’re more than this.”

Supergirl scoffs. “No one can be ‘more’ than Supergirl. Especially your sister. I’m going to keep looking for that Kryptonian. Do your job and tell me if she turns up. You’re going to need my help to stop her.”

“What about Thanksgiving?”

Supergirl leaves without answering.  

X

 

Sam walks into Lena’s office to a news report on the recent murders of the 1-7 gang playing on the television. The news footage is gruesome, blood splattered everywhere, uneven bodies lying beneath crimson sheets. There’s a shot of some alien symbol that makes her heart stutter. It’s too bad, but better drug dealers than innocents.

Lena acknowledges her but doesn’t speak until the segment ends. Sam hesitates at the door, smiling cautiously. Lena looks like a queen when she’s at her work desk, but Sam feels her nervous energy charging the air like static. “If there’s one thing National City can’t be accused of, it’s being dull.”

Sam closes the door to the office as Lena mutes the television. She thinks of dodging bullets with Maggie. “That’s been plastered all over the news. It’s horrifying.”

“So many dead drug dealers when there’s a perfectly good Morgan Edge out there,” Lena waves the words away, despite Sam’s smile, stows the scattered news clippings spread out on her desk in a folder and closes the file. Lena settles the folder into her desk drawer. “So, my CFO has finally returned to the world of the living.”

Sam stops in her tracks. “Am I fired?”

Lena turns on her chair, away from the television to face her. She nods at the chair opposite of the desk. Sam moves to it. “I think there have been enough firings to go around.” Sam sits. Lena closes the open laptop in front of her. “I’m not going to say I’ve liked this turn of events.”

“I know. There’s no excuse.”

Lena cocks her head. “I’m open to excuses. I’ve salvaged things. Every meeting and conference call you missed, I stepped in and got it done. Before you came along I handled all of this. I guess I got used to having a little breathing room once you were here. Now I need to know if I can rely on you.”

Sam takes a breath, rubs her eyebrows. “If you’re going to fire me I’d rather… attempt to keep my dignity.”

There’s a long silence. Lena gets up and pours them water. Ice clinks against glass. Sam thinks of Patricia. She thinks of a shed. Lena returns, settling a glass of water on a coaster in front of her. She resumes her seat. “Sam, you’re more than just a colleague. You’re a friend. I meant it when I said that you helped me through one of the most difficult periods of my life. You kept this company afloat when I was accused of murdering children. That kind of support goes a long way. I want to be here for you, but I need to know what’s going on. I can’t work with nothing.”

Sam has a drink of the water. “Okay.” She sets the glass down. It still takes too long to begin. “I’ve had headaches for a while. Bad ones. Pills don’t help. I talked to Kara about it. She said I might need glasses.”

“All right…” she can tell Lena doesn’t know what to think. “Did you get your eyes checked?”

“No, I— my vision is perfect. It’s higher than average. It’s 20/8.”

“Wow.”

“So it can’t be that I need glasses.” She holds the stack of papers in her hand tightly. Lena waits. “I’ve been exhausted. I’ve felt drugged. I can’t wake up. I’ve been late taking Ruby to school. I sleep past every alarm clock— I keep forgetting to pick her up at her friend’s houses. It’s gotten worse recently.” She can’t tell her about losing track of time. “I’ve been a bad mother. I’ve been a bad employee. I would have gotten checked out before but it wasn’t interfering with my life then. I don’t know how to explain ‘I’m tired’. I don’t know how any of this happened.” For years she’s been busting her ass and now it’s all slipping through her fingers. She blinks her eyes. “Jesus, I cannot start crying here; I’m mortified—”

“Sam. Let's take this one step at a time. One, you are not fired, so rest easy, okay?” She reaches out, takes her hand. “Secondly, you're my friend. And as a friend? Please go to the hospital and run through a barrage of labs. L-Corp has great insurance. Take advantage of it. I’d do it myself, but you’re entitled to your privacy. You’re entitled to what _you_ share. Whatever turns up…” the words drift away, Sam seems to recall Maggie telling her something similar. “I’m here for you. We’ll meet whatever this might be head on. And if it turns out it's nothing and it's just that you have an extremely demanding work and home life? We’ll find ways to address that, too. But that won't come with flailing in the dark. We have to identify the problem and tackle it.”

“You're right. I've been afraid to go to the doctor but enough is enough. I can’t have this continue.”

Lena smiles. “Good. You have to be around for Ruby and for me and for Kara and Maggie.”

“The dream team,” She says absently.

“Speaking of, I’m bringing wine and mashed potatoes to our get-together tomorrow, but is there anything else I can help with?”

Thanksgiving is tomorrow and she’s invited people. She shakes the surprise away. Now she has to go back to the store and cook all day tomorrow. “Can I borrow this?” She picks up one of the pens on Lena's desk, writes “make Thanksgiving dinner” on her hand. She settles her hand flat on her lap before Lena can see. “Uh. No. Nothing else. Yourself, mashed potatoes and wine.”

“I know Maggie's been tasked with pumpkin pie. What are you having Kara bring?” Lena asks. Sam looks back at her. “Is she still coming?” she asks tentatively.

How much food does she have to make. Kara’s coming? “I see no reason why she wouldn't.”

“She showed me that armadillo picture you sent her. You should have seen her light up. It looked like it was out in the desert somewhere. She made it her phone background…”

Sam wonders if Lena knows how she lights up at the mere mention of Kara, how fond her smile is, even if her eyes are sad and far away. She doesn't remember any armadillo pictures. 

There's another long silence as She contemplates the pointlessness of these commitments.

Lena slides her chair closer. “Look, Sam, Thanksgiving’s a demanding day. If you need to keep it to you and Ruby so you can recharge? That's okay. Not to sound maudlin but I’m used to Thanksgiving on my own.”

“So am I,” she fights to get the words out. “I want you to come over.”

Lena smiles, shakes her head. “I won’t fire you if you need the night to yourself.”

“That’s great. But I really want you to come over.” 

“Okay. I wish I didn’t have to say this but— I hope you know I don’t want our personal relationship to ever be affected by our professional relationship. Maybe that’s naive. I’m your boss, you’re my employee. I don’t usually mix business with pleasure, but I don’t have many friends and I’d like to hang on to the few I have.”

“If you don’t judge me too harshly on the meal, I think we might survive.” She takes a moment. “I really appreciate the opportunity to make things right, Lena.”

“I know I can count on you.” She studies her another few moments longer. “I’m grateful you met with the the start-up in my stead. Anything I should know to improve your next trip?”

Lena’s friendly, but she doesn’t trust the question. “No, everything was great. Did they say something?”

“That you were much more personable than the usual stiffs they have to meet. But the hotel, the flights, rental cars, per-diem, any issues? ”

Sam smiles. She’s looked through her e-mails, thought she walked into this office prepared. “Um. Ruby didn’t like that I was gone, but that can’t be helped.” Lena looks at her a moment longer. She knows she sent messages via FedEx. “I guess next time a personal hot-spot would help.”

“Wi-Fi to go. Of course. Why didn’t we think of that?” She smiles. “Next time, then.”

Sam nods absently, stands. “I have some things to take care of before I head out.” She looks to the TV, Morgan Edge is standing in front of the Supergirl statue. Someone defaced it. Lena frowns and turns the volume up.

_I’m not saying it was Supergirl, that would be defamation. Does defamation apply to aliens?_ He cocks a grin at the camera. _But tell me this. If these thugs were really brutalized the way some are saying they were, who’s capable of such a thing? None other than Lena Luthor’s pet._ He lifts a hand to the camera, slowly unrolling bandaging to reveal a burn mark on it. _Supergirl did this to me. For what reason, I can’t say. Stormed into my office with murder in her eyes._ Lena shifts in the chair. _If she could go after a regular businessman like myself… well, who knows what she’s really capable of?_

Sam narrows her eyes on the television.

X 

Kara finds a solitary can of cranberry sauce on the otherwise empty shelf. The label is faded and looks at least twenty-years old. She looks for an expiration date but doesn’t find one. She sets the can inside her empty basket.

The store is loud. There are too many people. Christmas songs play on loop. Last year they went to Midvale. It was the three of them and J’onn. This year it’s at Alex’s. Eliza will be there. J’onn. Maybe Winn. It makes her feel claustrophobic. She hasn’t decided whether she’ll go. She’s too tired to make cranberry sauce. She doesn’t want to finish cooking the turkey Eliza or Alex put in the oven too late.

 She wanders the store like a ghost. She’s only been home for an hour at a time. She showers, she changes, she gets back out there. This last time she found her last paycheck, deducted two thousand dollars for the suit she wore the day of the shoot. There were eighty-three dollars and sixty-seven cents actually paid out to her. It went to the cab driver who hauled her back to CatCo the night of the kryptonite incident. She left it in an envelope with a note, gave it to the man at the desk of the cab company. _Sorry for the trouble,_ she wrote, but didn't sign it. It occurs to her that he may not have gotten the money after all.

“Kara?”

Kara doesn’t react until she hears the name again. She looks up. Sam leans heavily into a grocery cart, the cart filled high with food. Kara doesn’t want to talk to her.

“Hey, I thought that was you,” Sam rolls the cart over to her, one of the wheels spinning in the opposite direction of the others. “I’d say ‘funny running into you here’ but it looks like everyone else had the same idea,” she looks around, gets jostled into the cart by a red-faced woman walking with huffy determination. “We still on for tomorrow?”

Kara strokes the handles of the basket, as if looking for strength. She was hoping Sam forgot. “I have to be with my family.” It seems like the easiest thing to say.

“You said that before. Maybe you could swing by later. Or if you’re worried about driving after Thanksgiving drinks, we could send an Uber for you? We want you to stop by. And don’t tell Lena I said so, but I think she might fire me if you don’t show up.”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re right. Not over that,” she moves down the aisle, looking at corn bread mix. “Do you like corn bread?” Kara doesn’t feel anything about corn bread. Sam picks up a box and looks it over, studious. “Does Maggie like corn bread?” Kara isn’t sure whether the question is directed at her, she seems to be talking to herself. Kara looks around for an opportunity to exit. “Hey, uh— You must be swamped at CatCo, right?” She touches the corn bread box to her arm to get her attention. “With that lunatic rampaging all over National City. Did you hear what Edge said? I swear, every time I think that guy can’t get skeevier, there he is: skeevier.”

Kara doesn’t want to talk about Morgan Edge. She saw his interview. She saw the one Lena did with Snapper in her stead, telling him that any joint projects she and Maxwell Lord have are tentative at best. “Do you believe him? About Supergirl?”

“God, no.” She tosses two different boxes of corn bread mix into the cart. “Not about the drug dealers or his hand. He probably burned it on a George Foreman grill. Say what you will about Supergirl but she’s never been very good in that department.”

Kara pauses, looking away from corn meal mix to her. “What do you mean?” Grilling?

“I mean she’s like that Batman over in Gotham. Maybe if you take these jokers out, they won’t keep coming back and killing people.”

Kara’s heard these arguments before. She doesn’t entirely disagree, but only as a last resort. If there’s a chance to take someone in safely, you take them in. Death is a blessing. She knows what it is to be given a life sentence. To the Phantom Zone. To Earth. “You think it’s better to kill people rather than lock them away?”

“Sometimes, yes,” she walks down the lane, takes out a grocery list. Kara sees ‘make Thanksgiving dinner’ written on her hand, and worries, wonders if she has too much going on at work. “Drug dealers, whatever. But then you get into turf wars. When innocent people are hurt and dying, someone should do something.”

“That’s what Supergirl and NCPD are for.”

“But that doesn’t matter when the justice system can be bought. When judges and police officers can be blackmailed and intimidated. Look at Morgan Edge. Look at what he did to Lena and those children. If Supergirl really fried his hand, like he said she did? It’s the least he deserves.” She walks another moment, smiles brightly. “Happy Thanksgiving!”

Kara meanders, feeling heavy. “I saw a few of the police cruisers with that strange symbol on their car. The one left by whoever killed those gang members.”

“The creepy skull thing?” Sam asks. Kara nods. “Jeez, that’s pretty Punisher, isn’t it? I wonder what Maggie thinks about it. Is there one on hers?”

“I hope not.”

“Do you like gravy? Ruby hates it, I like it. Is it expected with Thanksgiving? I can’t believe I offered to do this, I’m completely over my head.”

Kara remembers getting over her head. Without CatCo and Kara, things are more manageable. “Where’s Ruby now?”

“She insisted on staying in the car to play Angry Birds. Smart girl. I just dragged her here this weekend and then I remembered—,” someone slams the cart into hers, moves on without apologizing. “What is this, Whole Foods? Come on!” She shouts after them.

“Everyone’s stressed out.”

“Not you. You’re calm.” 

Kara walks with her, not knowing how to get out of the conversation. “Yeah.” She waits a beat. “I got fired from CatCo. I don’t have as much going on as everyone else.”

“Oh, Jesus. I’m sorry.” She turns away from the mangled pie crusts to look at her. “What the hell happened?”

Kara takes a slow breath, staring at all the empty shelves. “The same thing that always happens.”

Sam muses, walking along. She picks up sugar and throws it into the cart. “That’s too bad. Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah,” she smiles.

Sam smiles back. “I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said Lena might fire me.”

“Oh?”

“I completely screwed up. Lost track of time, missed several key meetings. It’s like I was going out of my way to get fired.”

“I know the feeling.”

“I hope not. It’s awful. I feel like a massive disappointment.”

Kara knows that feeling, too. “Do you really think Lena’s going to fire you?” She seems to have had this exact same conversation with Lena, only with herself and Snapper involved. Well. She really did get fired. Maybe Lena will fire Sam, too.

“If I keep this crap up and she’s sensible she will. She gave me another shot. I explained, as best as I could. I felt like a complete idiot the entire time. _I’m so tired._ Give me a break. She was _amazing_. I can’t bear the thought of letting her down. She has no idea what she’s done for me. Here’s this… fucking perfect human being and somehow she’s giving me the time of day.”

Kara smiles wryly. “I don’t think Lena would agree with that assessment.” Even if Kara agrees Lena is close to a perfect human being. But she also knows that Lena struggles as much as she does. “You’re a hard worker. She appreciates you.”

“Not just me,” they walk a little further. “Not to press, but are you really okay about CatCo?”

Kara nods. “I don’t think I ever really belonged there. I struggled to make it work.”

“Maybe you’re on your way to finding your true calling.”

“I think so.”

Sam smiles, wraps an arm around Kara’s shoulder to draw her close. They both tense. Sam stops, looks at her a moment, fingers clenched tightly around her shoulder. Kara can feel that. She must be tired. Sam lets her go. Kara straightens her jacket. “Do you think they still have turkeys?”

Kara winces. “Oh.”

They separate, Sam off on a desperate search. Kara walks the cranberry can to the self-checkout lane. She could speed through, in and out and having paid before anyone knows it, but she can’t muster the energy. Kara Danvers makes her feel tired and she refuses to do grocery shopping as Supergirl. She made that mistake once and a chain made ads based around her patronage.

She pays the three dollars and exits the store. It’s night, car roofs and hoods reflecting the lot lights. She sees a police cruiser in the parking lot and finds herself circling the car, trying to find that sticker. That… Worldkiller sticker. Why would they let police officers put that on their cars? Wouldn’t it scare the individuals they’re trying to take into custody? Wouldn’t it just escalate things? Maybe they want criminals to be scared. A police officer shouldn’t support a vigilante like that. A killer. 

This car is clean. She sighs, more relieved than she knows. Maybe Coville is wrong. Maybe this killer isn’t even Kryptonian. But she’s fooling herself. She knows what Kryptonians are capable of. She saw how Astra and Non left humans who dared to stand against them.

She’s leaving the parking lot when she notices a small human getting out of a car. Kara keeps walking but Ruby spots her first. “Kara!” She waves and trots over. Kara holds on to the cranberry sauce can as if it were a ward but it doesn’t stop Ruby. “Mom said you’re coming over for Thanksgiving.”

 “Oh. Right. I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it.”

“Oh.” She sounds a little disappointed. “Why not?”

“Something came up.”

“You sound like Mom. Something always comes up.” Ruby looks past her to the store. 

“Um. Your mom said you were playing Angry Birds.”

“I was, but she’s been in there forever.”

“It’s pretty packed.”

“I know, but she’s been weird lately. She forgets everything. I don’t want her to get lost. I’m going to look for her.”

“Maybe you should text her first.” Ruby isn’t dissuaded. Kara reluctantly follows. She knows the awful things that happen during the holiday season. Awful things never stop happening, even on special days. “I haven’t seen you…” since the funeral. “Since the last time we saw each other. How are you doing?”

Ruby shrugs, stiffening her chin.

“I lost someone too, when I was a little older than you. A friend.”

Ruby slows and looks up at her. “What happened? Did they get sick?”

“No.” She considers how to put it. “A bad person happened to him.”

“Someone hurt him?”

Kara nods. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. He was my only friend at the time, outside of my sister. It hurt a lot when it happened.” After Krypton died she hadn’t thought she could feel any more pain, any more loss, and then that happened. 

“When did it stop hurting?”

“It hasn’t. But it’s gotten easier. I still think of him.” She smiles a little. “And I bet when you’re as old as I am, you’ll think of Luke, too. And you’ll be able to talk about all the good things you remember about him.”

“But won’t I be sad? I don’t want to be sad forever.” 

“Probably. But … sometimes sad things can be happy memories. And happy things can be sad memories. It doesn’t make any sense,” she wrinkles her nose, “but life doesn’t always make sense.”

They’re still as families walk by, wishing them a Happy Thanksgiving. “I hate Thanksgiving,” Ruby says. Kara waits, turning the cranberry sauce can in her hand. “Everyone always asks if it’s a big family get together, but it’s just me and Mom. I’m used to not having any family, but she’s so annoyed lately.”

Kara sighs softly. “Your mom’s been working really hard, but all she ever talks about is how crazy she is about you. I don’t have a lot of family either, but sometimes found family is… an even stronger family. Because it’s the family you choose. And I know sometimes it’s hard to share our loved ones with new people. Especially when it doesn’t feel like we have very much time with them. It gets easier.”

“Who do you have to share?”

“Ruby?” Kara turns, sees Sam pushing the cart towards them. “Ruby, what are you doing? These last minute shoppers are out of control.” She wraps an arm around her shoulder, presses a kiss to her hair. “I thought you’d be long gone by now,” Sam tells Kara.

“I saw Ruby.” She looks at the bags piled high in Sam’s cart. “Any luck with the turkey?”

“No. I’m not panicking yet.”

“We’re not going to have turkey?” Ruby asks.

“All right, time to head home.” She ushers her gently towards the car. Kara looks for the annoyance that Ruby mentioned but doesn’t see it. She knows she only has glimpses with Sam. Who knows what Ruby is privy to that she isn’t? But she knows Sam’s a good person. Working at L-Corp and being a mom can’t be easy. She waits until Ruby’s out of earshot. “I’m totally panicking about the turkey.”

Kara smiles. “I’m sure something will turn up.”

“Are you sure you won’t come? I think Ruby likes you. I’m not sure she even likes me at times.”

“She’s getting to that age.”

“Ugh, the terrible teens. I want to keep her young and precious forever. I’m not ready for her to hate me yet,” she sighs. “But we don’t always get what we want.” She looks over the bags, as if trying to make sure something hasn’t been forgotten. “I know we haven’t known each other very long, but we’re friends. If you’re having a tough time, I’ll be there. We already make a pretty good crime fighting team.”

“Thank you. But I’ll be okay.”

 

X

 Supergirl patrols the skies, searching for Worldkiller. The city is quiet. It’s Thanksgiving. Homes are warm. Families are gathered together. She hasn’t slept in weeks and she’s still charged like a battery. Maybe spending time away from National City was a mistake. She won’t leave while that menace is here. Who is this mystery Kryptonian? How can she draw them out? She doesn’t believe in prophecies. She will not follow Coville’s madness. Whoever it is, she will stop them. She will reason with them, and then she’ll put them away. 

The sun shines brightly, her body draws it in like a leech. It’s quiet. She searches but there’s nothing. She’s full of energy and nothing. She returns to the ground, slipping her glasses back on, wandering empty streets. 

Her text notification goes off. Lena. _Will I see you tonight at Sam’s?_

Kara shuts the screen off without responding, trying to measure her breathing. Kara Danvers has failed to adapt. She’s failed to fit in. She’s failed to be successful in this human world. There isn’t enough of her to go around. There’s nothing and no one she can commit to. She can’t be responsible and be Kara Danvers. She can’t be Supergirl while Kara and her attachments keep her tethered and partial.

Morgan Edge keeps making a joke of Supergirl. The NCPD is rallying behind a Worldkiller. Maybe it’s only a select few, but it’s still too many. This wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t let them down, if she hadn’t gone after a police officer. Morgan Edge wouldn’t be able to slam Lena if she’d kept her emotions in check and hadn’t accidentally fried his hand. Her emotions are a hindrance. Supergirl doesn’t take sides. Right is right. Wrong is wrong. She can’t care. She can’t give in to her feelings. She needs to be focused. Reserved. Impartial. Everything in Krypton was still.

These streets are lifeless. Everything’s closed. She looks at Noonan’s, thinks of all the runs she did in the morning for Cat’s coffee. Their chats. She flirted with Adam and James here. Alex gave her dating advice. Cat told her to control her emotions. She can’t be emotional at work. She pauses, feeling her eyes burn. Breathes unsteadily.

She flies into the sky again. If not here, then somewhere. Supergirl is needed somewhere. She can’t rest. She won’t give in.

 

X

The doorbell rings and Sam fights to get the oven gloves off. “Ruby! Ruby, can you get the door?” The TV’s blasting in the living room. She isn’t sure Ruby’s heard her. She waits for the door to ring again but it doesn’t. She finally fights the gloves off and heads to the door. “Coming!” She looks to the living room. “Ruby, turn that down, it’s home, not Woodstock.”

“God, you’re old,” she calls back.

Sam rolls her eyes, opens the door. Maggie stands there, three pies stacked I n one hand, a six-pack of beer in the other. She wears a plaid red shirt, black jeans and an easy smile. “Hey. Am I early?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t see a leather jacket. Who are you?”

Maggie looks down at her outfit, smiles back at Sam who’s thrown on a long sleeved black shirt and jeans. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure how to dress.”

“You look great, get in here,” she takes the pies from her and lets her step inside. Maggie takes her boots off before Sam asks her to. “Let’s get the beer in the fridge. I will be indulging in this. Rubes! Maggie’s here!” Ruby pops around the corner. “You remember Detective Sawyer.”

“Hi,” Ruby says. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Ruby. You know, you can just call me Maggie. Um— I brought beer.” She grimaces. Sam smiles, shakes her head. “And pie.”

“She brought _three_ pies,” Sam tells her.

“Ooh,” Ruby heads over to inspect them, “what kind?”

“I made two pumpkin pies in case one of them is horrible.”

“What if they’re both horrible?” Ruby asks.

“Then there’s store bought apple pie.”

“Yum!” She peers at them. “Did you get whipped cream?” Maggie winces. “Oh. Well, that’s okay.”

“They’ll be good without, Ruby. Here,” Sam turns to the stove, pours her some apple cider. “The promised apple cider.” She throws a cinnamon stick in it. “There’s more if you want.” Ruby thanks her and moves off.

“That was a fail,” Maggie says.

“Forgetting whipped cream, that’s criminal.” Sam shakes her head, pours her a mug of apple cider. “I have some good news.” Maggie lifts her eyebrows, watching Sam pour herself the last mug. “I have a turkey in the oven.”

Maggie studies her. “…is that a euphemism?”

“What?” Sam laughs. “Uh. No. There’s been no one to plant a ‘turkey in the oven’ for quite a while. An embarrassingly long time. You know what, this sounds gross, let’s move on.” She turns on the oven light. “See?”

“Hey, you found one.”

Maggie texted the night before, asking if Thanksgiving was still on. Sam informed her of the turkey situation. _It might be a Chinese takeout Thanksgiving at this rate. T_ he doorbell rang not long after and she found a turkey sitting on her doorstep with a note and a receipt. _Happy Thanksgiving!_ it said. “I _did._ ” Sam looks at her. “Was it you?”

“Was it me what?”

“The turkey.” She nods to the oven.

“You’re asking if I dropped a turkey off to you in the middle of the night?” Maggie smiles. “I wish I could take credit, but no.”

“Well, shit.” Sam looks at it. “What if it’s poisoned?”

“We’ll die.” She has a sip of the cider, licks her lips. “Hey, if Lena’s coming by, maybe her taster can try it before we all do.”

She smiles. “Now you’re making me paranoid. Crap. So much for Kara’s ‘I’m sure something will turn up’ thing. I thought she meant, you know, settle for a ham or Chinese.” 

Maggie considers, smiles. “It’s the season for good deeds. Maybe meals on wheels heard you were in desperate straits.”

“Maybe,” she grouses. “Speaking of Kara, she told me about her job. Yikes. And during the holiday season too, that sucks. She must be so stressed out.” Maggie strokes her mug thoughtfully. “I’m not trying to gossip, I’m just worried. I don’t think she’s going to come tonight. She made it sound like… now she can discover herself and has found some purpose, but she looked down.”

“Poor Kara.”

“Yeah. Lena’s going to be bummed, too. So’s Ruby.” She shrugs. “On the other hand, she might survive any food poisoning.” She smiles, leaning into the counter. “How’s the cider? Too hot?”

“Just right. This is good, thanks. Cider’s such a family thing. I haven’t had much of it since I left home.” Since she left home, she says. The same way she herself left home, maybe. “So, how’ve you been? I thought you were going to let me know when you were back here.” Sam straightens, looks at her strangely. Maggie hurries. “Not that you had to— I just—” she looks at her. “You said you had so much to tell me when you got back. I guess I was expecting to hear from you.”

Sam goes cold. Another forgotten thing. Lena told her Maggie was coming for Thanksgiving, that she was bringing pie. She hadn’t remembered any of that. She was supposed to get a hold of her when she returned to National City? She doesn’t even remember leaving National City. But Lena went on about her trip. She remembers fragments of that. Fragments of FedEx of all places. There are things she knows but doesn’t remember.

“And I totally get it,” Maggie goes on, “Seeing Patricia must have been… hard. But it sounded like you were feeling better about it so…” Maggie looks at her, a little helplessly, her smile nervous. “I just hope… that everything is okay and that. Everything’s still feeling okay for you.”

“I told you I saw Patricia?”

Maggie’s puzzled. “Yeah.” A beat. “Sam, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just— I’m so sorry, I can’t believe … I completely flaked out on you. I didn’t call when I got back here,” _I don’t remember having the conversation or seeing Patricia, period,_ “and I’ve been flaking out at work,” she sighs. “I’m over it. I just had this conversation with Lena. I’m not… I keep losing track of things.” 

Maggie looks at her, serious and patient. “We talked about that a little while ago. Still worried, huh?” Sam nods. “Have you gotten checked out yet?”

“I have an appointment set up for a few weeks from now. It’s the fastest they could get me in. Especially this time of year, everyone’s on vacation.”

“But you took an important first step. Remember what we said, we won’t jump to the worst possible conclusion.” Her fingers graze along hers. The contact sends a current through her. She waits for an apology that doesn’t come. Sam’s glad it doesn’t come. But for all she knows the touch could be encouraging, friendly, accidental. She isn’t sure. Doesn’t know how this goes with women. Shouldn’t it be easier? Not trickier? _So why’d you ask her out?_ “Whatever happens, you have your friends. We’re here for you, every step of the way.”

Sam smiles, flustered. “Yes. I do have … an excellent group of friends. We don’t get enough time together.” Maggie smiles, doesn’t immediately pull her hand away. So maybe that means something. “Um. My God, I haven’t even checked in on you. What’s happening in National City is crazy. Who the hell is that crazy person slaughtering people?”

Her mood darkens. “Don’t know. Everyone’s on the lookout.”

“Do you think I should be worried?”

“No. By all indications, whoever it is is only going after criminals.”

“And it’s not Supergirl, right?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I knew it.” She nods, relieved. “Kara said she saw some cruisers with that … that skull symbol on it.”

“The Punisher?”

“ _No,_ ” she smiles, shakes her head. “That… screaming skull thing that was found at the crime scene where those gang members were murdered. And it hasn’t been found just in National City. What’s that about?”

“She really saw that?” Maggie sighs. “That’s just great.” 

“Do you have one on yours?” Sam asks. Maggie gives her a look. “That’s a relief. I get the appeal of vigilante justice and all, but She’s not just killing them. She’s annihilating them. Even the edited stuff on TV is disturbing.”

“You think it’s a woman?” 

Sam considers, wondering why she said ‘she’. “I don’t know why I said that.” She gives it further thought. “Maybe because whoever is doing it is just as strong as Supergirl. There’s Superman, but he doesn’t spend too much time here. Justice is blind. Justice is usually portrayed as a woman. _And,_ ” she reaches over, straightens the collar of Maggie’s shirt. “You’re a cop. When I think of ‘justice’ I think of you. You’ve been around for a lot of shitty days.” Maggie smiles wryly. “And— that sounded better in my head than it did out loud.”

“Well, here’s to being around for other shitty days.”

Ruby walks in and Sam pulls away. “Hey!” Sam says. “Sweetie!” _Too much._ Why does she feel like _she’s_ the one to have been caught by her mom? She can’t remember the last time she saw Patricia.

Ruby looks at her warily. “Hey?” She puts the mug away and looks at the two of them. Sam flushes. Maybe Ruby didn’t see. Maybe if Ruby did see, she’ll think it’s just gals being pals. Maybe they _are_ just gals being pals. Maybe Maggie thinks she’s just being friendly. Shit. She isn’t sure she’d be faring any better with a man. She hasn’t dated in over a decade. _You’re not dating now._ “Lena’s here.”

Sam can smell her perfume, feel the vibrations of her nervous heartbeat. Soon enough she’s around the corner, two bottles of wine in one hand, mashed potatoes on a platter in the other. Her eyes scan the room. She smiles but Sam sees her disappointment.

 

X

 

It feels like an eternity. Kara watches them pass one another bowls of food. Wine spills into glasses, knives and forks scrape over plates. Their chewing is too loud. Everything is when she isn’t actively trying to suppress it. Kara looks past them to the outside. In the time they pass the salt, she could have been out there, she could have saved someone.

Eliza asks about work. J’onn asks about Worldkiller. Kara smiles and says nothing that matters, but enough to satisfy them. Alex listens and watches her. She knows she’s thinking about Jeremiah. Supergirl used to listen for Jeremiah. She listened for months after he returned, only to disappear again. She hasn’t heard him. Kara hasn’t asked Alex where she thinks he is.

The conversation shifts to the Thanksgiving Day parade, some of the performances. She hasn’t felt hungry in days. Hasn’t eaten in days. Everything about her still glows, healthy. She is not a human. She is unnatural. The little food on her plate seems like too much. She forgot to bring the can of cranberry sauce. 

Minutes trickle like years. She wonders if Lena, Sam and Maggie are enjoying their night together. She hopes Sam doesn’t overcook the turkey. Her body is still. Her mind disconnects, floating away, thinking of Krypton. They didn’t have Thanksgiving, but every night with her family was special. They honored each other. They were grateful. She liked it best when Astra joined them. Even Non was tolerable then. They’re all dead now, except for her. Alex killed Astra. She killed Non. She glances at Alex, at J’onn, at Eliza, her own reflection in the silverware. This Thanksgiving table of losers. They talk about what they’re thankful for. Kara can’t think of anything, so she makes something up, something she knows must be true somewhere or was, long ago.

Finally it ends. She hugs Eliza so she doesn’t have to have a conversation about why she hasn’t hugged her. She nods to J’onn. Alex follows her into the hallway. 

“Mom wanted me to give this to you.” Alex shoves a chocolate pecan cake at her. Kara ties up her hair, slips on her glasses and takes it. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

It’s their first conversation of the evening without artifice. “It was easier than not coming.” Than all the explanations, all the concerned text messages and calls. One night instead of weeks of soothing worry. 

“Did you really fry Edge’s hand?”

“Yes.” She waits for a lecture.

Alex shakes her head. Maybe she’s finally starting to let go of Kara Danvers. “Next time we do this? Just _try_ to pretend like it’s not the last place on Earth you’d rather be. Now I’m going to be the one dealing with her asking why you are the way that you are.” She looks at her and waits. Kara says nothing and Alex returns inside and shuts the door. 

Kara pulls her glasses off, wipes her eyes. What does that mean? _Dealing with her asking why you are the way that you are._ The way that the Phantom Zone made her? The way that she is. How can Alex know, Eliza know, when she doesn’t know. She used to think if she was normal, she might be different. Eventually she came to think that even if she didn’t have these powers, she still wouldn’t be normal.

She takes the stairs down, curling her fingers so they stop shaking. Once she’s outside it’s easier to shed that skin and care. She turns her phone on. A stream of messages come in. Happy Thanksgiving messages from early in the morning. Maggie and Sam, both wondering if they’d see her today. Lena merely wishes her a Happy Thanksgiving with no other flourishes. Kara’s grateful to Lena for not pushing.

She realizes Winn wasn’t at Thanksgiving. She hasn’t been good to him. He has little family. He has a father that makes him feel ashamed. Toyman. A mother who walked away. She remembers how close they used to be. He was the one person she chose to tell about Supergirl. Everyone else has told her secret for her, given it away like stock, stolen it by invading her privacy. But she told him and he was wonderful. She liked how sensitive he was. He was kind. She hasn’t forgotten how he kissed her, the nervous energy around him, a kiss of desperation. He was so sad. She tasted his tears. She couldn’t feel that way for him, no matter how she wanted to. He was friendly with Mon-El. She hopes that whatever was between them was… kind. Winn deserves that. But now what does he have…? Not her friendship. Not Mon-El. No Thanksgiving.

She should go to him, but the thought makes her feel weak. She didn’t volunteer at the soup kitchen this year like she usually does. She hasn’t gone in a long time. Why spend her time doing something anyone can do? Why, when she can be Super? 

She walks to the National City Museum, sees a giant banner for the latest exhibition, jewelry from all over the world. She likes climbing the steps. Alex used to make her run up with her, throw her arms up in the air like Rocky Balboa. Now Kara goes with Lena to see the new exhibits. Went with Lena. It’s another thing they lost track of after the Daxamite invasion. She wonders how Lena’s doing. What she’s wearing. How the dish she brought was received. Have Maggie and Sam pinpointed all the little ways Lena shows how she cares? Kara remembers she was supposed to bring stuffing. She shouldn’t agonize over a small thing like that. It’s nothing. Kara’s nothing. Stuffing’s nothing. Why does she feel guilty?

 

X

 

“Okay,” Ruby says soberly, looking them over. Sam keeps her cards close, Lena keeps her cards in a spread, surveying all options, Maggie holds them in a small stack against her leg. “Hazardous. Daring. Speculative.” Lena and Maggie thumb through their cards. Risky. “Risky!” Ruby throws the green apple card down. Sam tosses in her card. Maggie makes a face as she studies her collection. Lena plays her card.

Sams tsks at Maggie. “You know you’re disqualified if you don’t hurry.”

Lena leans forward to take a drink of wine. “I thought an NCPD detective would be cool under pressure.”

“I’m very intimidating,” Ruby says.

Maggie chuckles and throws her card in. “I’d hate to keep the judge waiting.”

 Ruby gathers the cards and shuffles them. Ruby has the biggest collection. She and Ruby knowing one another gives them an edge, and she’s sure that Lena and Maggie are choosing what they suspect to be Ruby’s cards. Lena’s plays tend to be wry, while Maggie’s are darker than Sam usually sees while they’re playing Apples to Apples. _Let’s try Cards Against Humanity sometime,_ Maggie said. _Is it age appropriate?_ Sam asked. _Definitely not._ Lena perked up. _I want in whenever this goes down._ Maggie smirked.

“Okay,” Ruby says seriously. “The word was ‘Risky’. And we have…” she flips one card over. “Men.” Ruby makes a face, unimpressed while Sam and the others try to keep their chortling to themselves. “Dating.” She gives them another look. “I’m not going to say you three have a one track mind, but it kind of sounds like you have a one track mind. And…” she flips the final card. “Corn bread.”

Lena covers her smile with her hand. Maggie laughs.

“Who put that down?” Sam asks. She looks between the two of them. “Fess up. Is that a crack at the corn bread? I slaved over that bread.”

“It was out of a box,” Ruby says.

“ _Risky_ corn bread?” Sam looks between Maggie and Lena. “Whoever played that is going _down._ ”

Ruby sighs. “Who cares, it was lame anyway.” She looks over the cards, thoughtful. “But it was a little dry tonight.” She lifts the corn bread card. “Corn bread wins.” 

Lena takes the Risky card with gusto. “My second card of the night! Finally! You know, if Kara were here I’d be cleaning up.” 

They all exchange small smiles. Ruby looks at her phone and gets to her feet. “Clara’s here.”

“What? Why?” Sam asks. “Don’t you want to keep playing Apples to Apples with Mom?”

“It doesn’t make any sense playing it with you guys.”

“You hear that?” She looks at the others incredulously, pulls Ruby into her lap, tussles her hair. “Your kid turns twelve and she thinks she’s all grown up.” Ruby smiles and squirms away. She remembers Ruby’s watching a movie tonight. “All right, move your butt,” she pats her shoulder and goes to her purse to get money. “Have fun at the movie and don’t stay up too late tonight, all right?”

“I won’t,” Ruby says. Sam hugs her. “Ow. Be careful.”

“Don’t whine. I’ll hug you as tight as I want.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll let it slide this time,” she rubs her shoulder. They return to the living room. “I had a nice time tonight. Please behave yourselves and don’t keep Mom up too late.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Lena says.

“Well,” Ruby looks at her, “I’m not sure about you because you’re her boss.” Lena grins, exchanges a ‘wow’ with Sam, “but maybe you,” she tells Maggie. “You’re more responsible.”

“I’ll try my very best,” Maggie says. “Enjoy your movie, Ruby.”

“You call me if you need anything,” Sam says following her to the door. She sees the parents and Clara step out of the car, wave to her. Sam waves back, waits for them to pull away before she returns to the others. “Check out the sass on that kid.”

“Can’t imagine where she got it from,” Maggie says.

Lena smiles. “I think she thinks I’m the devil incarnate. I’m the terrible monster that keeps her mother at work all day.”

“You’re the terrible monster that keeps her fed and in a home.”

“Well, you do some of the work.” Lena turns to Maggie. “And you’re the responsible one.”

“She doesn’t know any better because I left the leather jacket at home.”

“You do look rather edgy in that thing,” Lena admits. 

Maggie has a drink of her beer. “I’m not sure I’ll ever look as edgy as you on a CatCo cover.” Lena covers her face with her hands. “Don’t tell me you’re bashful.”

“Only amongst friends.” She looks at the empty space on the couch next to her. Sighs softly. 

Sam knows she’s thinking about Kara. She plops down on the seat next to her. Points for Maggie to sit on Lena’s other side. “Okay, it’s time to be obnoxious and take a selfie in commemoration of this night.”

“May we never forget the corn bread,” Maggie says.

“I made that for you and this is the thanks I get,” Sam reaches to the coffee table, grabs her phone. “Okay, squeeze in close.”

Maggie glances at Lena nervously. “Uh— permission to get—” Lena wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close. Maggie relaxes. “Okay!”

Sam wraps an arm over Lena’s back, grazing over Maggie’s shoulder. Maggie glances at her, smiles. Sam stares, gets it together. “Jesus, okay, hold on,” the phone starts to slip out of her hand, “selfie mode, check— thank God for my long arms, all right, everyone smile!” They do. Sam snaps the picture. They all settle down to look at it.

“Now _that_ ,” Lena says, “is a group of women that can grace any magazine cover. Will you send that to me?”

“Me too,” Maggie says.

Sam smiles and texts it to them. “And,” she texts the picture to Kara, along with _wish you were here!_ “Now Kara gets it, too. I wish she’d been able to make it. Of course, I understand, family trumps everything.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lena says, with a shake of her head and a smile. “But this was a first for me in a very long time. Not on my own. And you both made it lovely, so thank you.”

“This is probably the first Thanksgiving I haven’t worked in…” Maggie laughs a little. “Well. I made an exception a little over two years ago.” Lena smiles gently. “But other than that I’ve worked just about every Thanksgiving since I’ve been on the force. Why make someone who has a family come in when I can, you know?”

“As long as I’m here, you both have a place to go to for the holidays,” Sam says. “It was nice for me, too. I think Ruby’s realizing I need adult friends and she needs breathing room. She’s growing up so fast.”

“She’s a funny kid,” Maggie says, “you can tell she has a great mom.”

“And a lead stomach,” Sam says. “But the mashed potatoes and pies were good. Not bad for someone who didn’t know if her oven worked.” 

Lena shoots Maggie a quizzical look. “I work a lot,” Maggie says. “I eat a lot of frozen dinners.”

“Before either of you head out, I’m going to need you to take some of the leftovers. I cannot have that much food left over. If you don’t want it, please wait until you’re outside to discretely throw it away.”

Lena smiles. Looks at her phone, her expression doesn’t change. “My carriage has arrived, right on schedule. Thank you both for a wonderful evening,” she hugs them. “The leftover bottles of wine are yours.”

“You should take them—” Sam starts to argue.

Lena won’t hear of it. After hugs have been given, she goes, a bag of leftovers in hand. They watch, from the doorway, as she steps into the car before the door closes again and they’re alone. The home seems so much smaller now.

“I'll help you clean up,” Maggie says. Together they collect the plates of appetizers from the coffee table, bottles of beer, glasses of wine, mugs of cider and tea, returning them to the kitchen. Maggie runs the water in the sink while Sam pops open the dishwasher. “Best invention ever,” Maggie nods to the dishwasher, as she washes a plate and hands it over to her.

Sam takes the plate, slips it into the dishwasher. “How posh is it though if you _still_ have to wash the plates before you throw them in here?”

“I’d still kill to have one,” she hands her a few mugs.

Sam puts them away. “You’re welcome to come by and use it anytime.” Maggie chortles. Sam watches her. Takes a few more plates. “I think tonight was a success. Lena just _happens_ to know how to make whipped cream, the freak.” She thinks of Ruby standing by Lena, fascinated as the whipped cream began to manifest. 

“Saved my ass. Who knows how good the pies would have been without that?”

“Perfectly edible. In fact, I think I’m having another slice tonight.”

“Cool. I’m glad I came.” 

“Me, too. I’m glad Lena did, too. I was afraid it was going to be weird.”

“Weird?” Maggie asks.

 “I wasn’t sure I could pull this off. Despite the corn bread crashing and burning.”

“I had seconds.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” she smiles, “but that card Lena played was great. I could have sworn I saw your eyes flash red.” Sam laughs. “I know it wasn’t your mother’s coveted recipe, which you did not get,” Maggie says, “but it wasn’t bad.”

Sam isn’t sure why Maggie’s talking about Patricia’s corn bread recipe. Patricia used to make amazing corn bread. “How do you know about Patricia’s great corn bread?”

Maggie pauses, turns off the water, looks at her a bit. Sam realizes there are no more dishes to put away. She shuts the dishwasher door, looks back. They’re standing about a foot apart, Maggie’s eyes narrowed, fingers twining. “I think I should head out.”

Sam fights disappointment and fails. She tells herself to be grateful for the great evening they had, the good conversation. Still: “Are you sure?”

Maggie shifts, strokes her own lower lip. She expected to get a quick answer out of her, but she looks unsure. “Maybe we should sit.”

Oh. “Yeah, sure.” Crap.

They return to the living room, sit on the couch. Maggie shifts to face her, one arm along the back of the couch, another resting on her thigh. Sam turns to look at her. Maggie takes another few moments. “I’ve thought about what you said.” Oh God. “I’ve thought about it a lot. Maybe too much.” She smiles quickly before it disappears. “I don’t know how I got here.”

“Here?” 

“Not, ‘here here’. Here…” she makes a vague gesture, taps her forehead. “I wasn’t planning on meeting anybody. And then we kept running into each other. We know the same people. It feels easy.” Sam smiles faintly. “I meant it when I said this was unexpected.”

“Okay.” Is this good? It sounds good? It sounds like a confession— or a breakup. Why is this so confusing? Maggie’s tension slams into her, making her breathless. 

“I’m just going to say it,” Maggie says. “I like you a lot. You’re… funny and you’re smart. Nice. You’re gorgeous,” she says more quietly. Sam smiles. “But… you have a lot going on.” Oh. “My last relationship was with someone who’d never done any of this before. She had a lot going on, too,” she says thoughtfully, “and I lost her. And it… fucking hurt. I kept thinking that maybe I rushed things, and didn't see what was right in front of me,” she shakes her head. “I wanted to take things slow, but I didn’t. We got swept away in the moment. I don’t want to do that with you. Lovers are a dime a dozen,” she mutters. “For me.” She smiles, bashful. “Friends are harder. I don’t have a family, so friends are all I have.” Sam reaches out, fingers carefully grazing her face, thumb easing over her chin. Maggie stills, swallows. Maybe that was wrong. Sam awkwardly lowers her hand back to her side. She tries not to fidget. “You’ve had so much going on. With work, and with being a mom, and with Patricia and National City being National City…” Sam furrows her brow. Sees intestines spilling out of a man like tubes. She forces the visual away. “I don’t want this to be a thing where you’re vulnerable and I’m taking advantage.”

“Okay… but what about what I want? Maybe you’re not the one who gets to decide whether I’m ready.” She waits, but Maggie’s quiet. “I do have a lot going on, but so do you with that psycho in National City. I get if I’m too much for you to get involved with right now. I work a lot, I have a kid, I might be sick.” She pauses, scared for herself. “It’s not ideal.” Maggie looks at her and Sam has to regulate her breathing, has to control herself from completely coming undone in her gaze. “Maybe _I_ was unfair to bring it up. I just… I don’t know when the right time is. Maybe there will never be a right time. I just don't want to wait and have my life pass me by.” She runs a hand over her face, smiles, humiliated. “You’re not taking advantage, but I’m sorry if I am.” 

“You’re not taking advantage.” Seconds pass. “Okay.”

“Okay…?”

“You’re right. Maybe there never is a perfect time. Let’s give it a try. If it works out, great. If it doesn’t… or you realize it’s one thing too many? No hard feelings. I’m still here. I’m still your friend.”

“Same for you, if you come to the decision that I’m too neurotic for any of this.” She smiles again, still embarrassed. “My heart’s racing. Everything’s too loud.” Maggie smiles, but she doesn’t understand. It _is_ too loud. Everything in the world is pressing in. She tries to force it away but it keeps creeping back in. If she talks she can bury it. “I feel like a dumb kid again. Jesus, I was barely older than Ruby the last time I dated.” She laughs. “Change your mind yet?”

Maggie pretends to consider. “Being around the block a few times is overrated.” She settles a hand over Sam’s. “We’ll balance each other out.”

“I really want to kiss you.” She blurts out. Christ. Somehow, Maggie doesn’t run. Sam flexes her jaw. “I clearly have zero chill. Should I have asked? Am I killing this? I haven’t—”

“It’s okay.” She slides closer. Smiles a little to reassure her. Her fingers graze over her chin, another whispered reassurance before lips press carefully to hers.

 

X

 

 The Alura hologram stares impassively at Supergirl. Supergirl isn’t sure what she wants from it.

All she knows is that the picture she received from Sam was nearly enough to make her burst into tears. She came to the Fortress of Solitude seeking solace. Lena’s been here before, but they’ve never been here together.

It’s almost impossible to reach Supergirl here. 

It’s past midnight and Kara Danvers hasn’t reached out to anyone. Not Winn, James, Maggie, Sam, nor Lena. Thanksgiving passed and Kara met their greetings with silence. She tells herself that Lena didn’t feel alone. She had Sam and Maggie. But what about Winn? Winn who has been nothing but kind and patient?

Why does she feel like she’s broken? She’s Supergirl. She can’t be broken. She was sent here for a reason. It wasn’t to make and foster friendships and be a bad reporter at a fashion magazine. It was to make a difference. Kara Danvers wasn’t able to make a difference no matter how hard she tried. Every attempt to make that life work was met with resistance.

This is who she’s supposed to be. A hero. Unbiased and removed. Instead of drinking wine and eating turkey she saved lives all over the world. She can’t find Worldkiller, but for the most part, everyone’s safe. If not for her, next year would have been filled with sad memories for so many people, so many regrets for things left unsaid. She did good. She has done more good since losing her job than she has in the past few months combined. It should fill her up the way it used to. This is better, higher, more purposeful than _wapow,_ but all she feels is emptiness. She has to be Kryptonian. She has to be still. Stable. But for the third time in one day her eyes are hot. Why? She survived the Phantom Zone. Loneliness and isolation are nothing to her. She didn’t choose that. She is choosing this. She can’t complain. She can’t whine.

She won’t cry. She didn’t cry on the one year anniversary of Mon-El’s death. She didn’t cry when she lost her job. She hasn’t cried in years. Soon, years will be nothing to her. Everyone will die. All her friends. Her family on this planet. And she’ll look the same. It will all wear and squeeze at her until she’s polished and hard as a diamond. Why does she have to be the one to survive?

“I wish you’d never sent me here,” she tells the hologram.

Alura stares back at her.

“I was supposed to take care of him. But when I got here he refused to take care of me. I was a child and he sent me away. He sent me to strangers. And now I don’t know how to be what they expect me to be. I’m stuck.”

Alura stares back at her.

“You used me to trap Astra. You turned her against me. If you hadn’t done that things might be different. She might still be here.”

Alura stares back at her.

“Kal’s not like me. I don’t know how to live here.” On Krypton it would have been decided for her. On Krypton she would have had clear choices. “I don’t know how to be myself. I don’t know if ‘myself’ is someone I’m allowed to be. Or if it would be selfish.” Would it mean abandoning the people she cares about for the greater good? She isn’t sure. Her voice shakes. “I’m hurting everyone.”

Alura stares back at her. Supergirl turns the hologram off.

X

 

Black Friday.

Supergirl expected something awful. People trampling over one another to get to the best sales. Some deranged shooter trying to mow down as many people as he could as quickly as possible. But there’s nothing. She closes her eyes. What will happen when all the work is done? The work will never be done. But what if it was? What would that mean for Supergirl or Kara Zor-El? What if Kara Danvers had nothing to go back to?

She peels through the sounds of traffic, pulling back the laughter, the layers of Christmas music, sifting through the smells of food, perfume, gasoline, rain in the distance. She hears her heartbeat. There, at the museum. She hesitates. Why does existing, without forcing everything away, constitute an abuse of power? Nearly unlimited power makes her terrifying. Kara Danvers has limits. There’s safety in limits. 

She lands and slips her glasses on, straightening her black peacoat, pulling back her hair. _Supergirl is what I can do. Kara Danvers is who I am._ Did she mean it? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know anything. Lena’s at the steps, near the museum entrance, looking at a guidebook. Her hair is pinned up. Lena refers to it as the granny look, but Kara thinks she looks beautiful. She’s wearing her glasses and a soft grey sweater. Kara hasn’t spoken to her since that morning after Lena nursed her back to health, as best as she could, from the kryptonite poisoning. Shame washes over her. Maybe she should go.

Lena looks up. Kara breathes deep, sucking her lips in. Lena smiles, leaves her place in the line and goes to her. She holds a guidebook to the current exhibit and for moments they seem to only catch fragments of one another. Kara sees the nervous twine of her hands, feels herself mirroring the action. She sees that scar on her eyebrow, the blue and green of her eyes, the beauty marks on her neck, curve of her jaw, the fabric of the sweater. She should apologize but doesn’t know how to speak.

“What an unexpected surprise,” Lena says. “Hi.”

“Hey.” She hears her voice softening. “I passed here yesterday and I thought of you.” She touches her glasses, looks around to the others, fingers tracing over her belt buckle. Everyone’s crowded together, talking jovially. A tall blonde in a black long-coat maneuvers through the crowd. Her smile is easy and relaxed. She must be meeting someone special. Kara looks back at Lena. “I’m sorry about yesterday.” Lena waits. “And I know you’ll probably say there’s nothing to be sorry for but…”

“But..?” 

 Kara bites her tongue, crosses her arms gently, rubbing her own elbows absently. “I don’t know,” she says a little helplessly. She smiles, bites her lower lip and looks down. “The last time we talked I said I hadn’t been feeling like myself. But I haven’t been feeling like myself for a long time. I don’t even know what ‘myself’ is anymore.” She clears her throat, adjusts her glasses again. 

“I was beside myself after that last scare with Edge and L-Corp. I still haven’t decided if I was myself or not.”

“But you didn’t push me away. I don’t mind that I was fired from CatCo,” she doesn’t look at her as she says it. “I had it coming. But it was easy to keep track of time that way. You get up, you go to work, you eat lunch, you work some more and after that. That little time you have is where you live your life. The things you want. But when it’s all open, it’s a lot. It’s a lot of time. It’s… overwhelming.” She smiles, laughs a little. “Um. That picture Sam sent was so great. You looked…” She uncrosses her arms and puts her hands in her pockets instead. “Happy.”

“It was a nice evening. We missed your stuffing. We missed you even more. I hope you had a nice time with your family.”

“I think they might have had a nicer time if I wasn't there. I was lousy company.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then presuming it was as bad as you think it was… apologize and be better moving forward. But Kara… I think they probably understand that we can’t always be at our best.” She waits a moment. “Did you have a ticket for the museum?”

Kara considers making an excuse, pretending to pat her pockets but she doesn't. “No. I don't.” She takes a step back, hears a murmur in the distance. “I’m sorry I made you lose your spot in the line.”

“It’s no trouble. This,” she gestures to the two of them, “is better.” Kara nods lightly. “Why don't you join me? I'd love the company. I'll get the ticket.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“I want to.” Kara hears sirens in the distance, coming closer. Screams within, what she assumes, is normal earshot distance. Lena turns her attention to the museum. “What’s going on?”

“We should go,” Kara says reaching out to take her arm, stopping herself.

“What? No, Kara. If someone needs help, we should go to them. What could happen at a museum?”

Kara’s breath thins in her lungs. “The same thing that happened at your gala.” She sees the banner for the exhibition again, priceless jewelry from all over the world. It must be worth a fortune. “The police are probably on their way—”

“I don’t hear anything. I think you’re jumping the gun a little.” Lena faces her, takes her shoulders firmly. “You wait here and I’ll go see to it,” she moves towards the museum even as people rush out. Some fall to the ground, clutching their heads, others writhe around as if they’ve been stung. Kara follows Lena, who stops beside the shrieking men and women, trying to identify their symptoms. Their screams are deafening. “I don’t understand; why is this happening?”

“We should call an ambulance,” Kara says, she starts to head inside but Lena grabs her hand.

“Wait. We don’t know what’s happening in there. Maybe this is a chemical attack.”

“If it is, you should get back to a safe distance.”

“Not without you,” Lena says. “You can’t go in there. You’re right, who knows what’s happening?” Kara grits her jaw. Lena lifts her arm, looks at her watch. “I could call Supergirl. I mean… that's probably what she wanted. To use it when I need her. When others need her.”

Kara locks up. Swallows. Hears footsteps drawing closer, and then she’s outside, the tall blonde of before, a duffle bag in hand. She lifts her full lips into a smile, looks at Lena. A shiver goes through her, then Lena scrambles back, hands to her hair; she whimpers.

“Lena—” Kara starts to go to her, the blonde turns her gaze to her, eyes rich and blue, fixating on her. _Lady Bird, Lady Bird, let down your hair_. Kara twitches, the ground unsteady around her, her knees buckle. She falls.

Lena rushes to her side. “Are you all right?” Kara looks around for the blonde. Everything’s spinning. Like in the pod. The air is closing in around her, thinning in her lungs. The skies are on fire. She’s being strangled. Her buttoned up shirt is a noose.

“I can’t breathe.”

Lena takes her hand. _Don’t touch me,_ Kara wants to say. Not like this. Not when she’s like this. She makes a sound that isn’t a word. “You’re okay. You _can_ breathe. Focus on me.” Kara tries. “I’m here. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I can’t...” She brings a hand to her neck, tugging at her shirt. Nothing helps. A button pops off, another, opening. Kara sees a flash of blue. Lena sees it too. 

There’s stillness. Lena’s fingers leave her hand, come to the shirt tentatively, parting it further. Kara’s frozen. Lena takes an unsteady breath, fingers drifting over the sigil. The hurt is clearer than any sky, the anger, the hatred. “It’s you.” This isn’t happening. It’s a trick. “It was always you.” Her chest is caving in. “I trusted you.” Her voice is thick, then breathless. “This was never real... It was all a lie.” Lena stands, walks away.

No, no, no, nonononono. Wait. She doesn’t have the air for words. She fights her way to her feet, pushing through the dizziness, trying in vain to keep her jacket and shirt closed, trying to hide that other part of her away. There’s chaos everywhere. “Lena, wait!” She fights through the crowd and finds her. “Let me explain, please.” Lena doesn’t want to stop. Kara takes her arm. It snaps like a twig in her hand, bone burst through skin, blood and muscle exposed, it splashes over her, over that sigil she so proudly wears. Lena screams. Kara’s sick. Vertigo. Everything spins. Her vision swims. Lena falls to the ground. Kara stares at her bloodied hand. A simple touch. The wrong pressure. All it takes to kill a human. To break Lena. Lena’s huddled on the ground, face twisted in agony. Kara can’t touch her. Can’t help her. Her vision won’t stabilize. All she sees is a skeleton on the ground. She slams her palms over her eyes, trying to force her vision back to normal. She wants to die. Please, someone, just let her die. The world disintegrates below her. Like Krypton if she'd never left.

Footsteps move away, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. She opens her eyes and sees a burning world. Mon-El crumbling to ashes in front of her. Endless stars. Endless nothing. She mewls, fingers digging into the ground. Clear out! Move, move, move, move! Lena, go! But Kara— move!

Hey, hey, hey. Hey. She feels pressure on her shoulder, a touch on her face. Kara’s eyes snap open. Her face is hot and wet. Her father looks down at her. You disappointment. Kara grabs at his suit. No. No. No. Kara, snap out of it. What is this? A gasp. Kara’s fingers squeeze. Kara, let go. That’s too tight. Kara, please. Kara…! 

Kara opens her eyes, sees the blue sky, hears the murmuring of others, the sound of emergency vehicles flooding into the area. Kara sees Maggie. Her own fingers are clenched around her NCPD jacket. She’s torn it. Kara looks around in a panic, releases her. Maggie nearly falls back, clutching a hand to her chest. She’s pale. Afraid. Of her. “You’re okay,” Maggie says. “Whatever you saw wasn’t real.” 

Kara groans, turns on her side, sniffles. Her words tumble out, high and uneven. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. You didn’t.” Her jacket is shredded.

“Where’s Lena?”

“She’s fine. She’s getting checked out.”

Kara gets up from the ground, looks around her, sees the concrete has been broken open where her fingers dug. The air is sucked out of her. Her face is numb and tingling. “Did anyone see?”

“Everyone’s shaken up. I think they’re too worried about what happened to have spotted this. You okay?”

Kara stands unsteadily, looks around. How did this happen? That woman Winn talked about. The bank robber. She knew it. She knew it and she didn’t call him. She endangered everyone. She thought Supergirl couldn’t be affected. What if she’d touched someone, kicked someone, crushed them? What if Lena had tried to touch her in that state? What if she’d killed Maggie? What if she’d killed her in front of everyone?

 She throws up. Watery bile. 

 Maggie steps away, rubs her back, gives her a handkerchief. What’s wrong with her? She chose wrong. She keeps choosing wrong. How did that woman get to her? Even J’onn can’t touch her mind. Why is she so weak…? “I’m fine.” Kara wipes at her mouth. “I am… so sorry.” She stumbles away as Maggie and the other NCPD officers fan out. Kara hears them talk in hushed whispers about the Skeleton Killer. So they’re worried Worldkiller will show up here. Will she show up? If she shows up she’s done for. If she shows up now she won’t be able to stop her. So she does think it’s a ‘her’. Does she believe Coville?

She takes the steps down unsteadily to where the others are. Lena leaves the ambulance where she was seated and throws her arms around Kara, hugging her close. “I was so scared,” Lena says shakily. “Are you okay?”

Did she push the button? Did she call for Supergirl…? “I’m fine.” Though she can barely hear herself. “Is your arm okay? Are you okay?” Lena’s holding her. She must be. What the hell was that? How could that have happened? It felt real. Sounded real. She remembers Lena’s blood on her hand, warm as Astra’s blood when she bled out in front of her. Broken bones. “Did I say anything weird?” Kara asks, careful not to hold her.

Lena laughs, dazed, not letting her go. “Did I?”

“I can’t remember,” she says honestly.

Lena pulls back to look at her. She cups her face, looks at her a long time. She lifts a hand, carefully straightens Kara’s glasses, smeared with tears and dirt. 

 

X

They return to Kara’s.

Kara turns up the heat when they walk in, sets her bag down, smiles a little as Lena uses her arm to balance herself long enough to take her shoes off. They were quiet on the cab ride here. Things still feel quiet between them.

“Do you mind if I clean up?” Lena asks. Her face is dirty from the ground. She didn’t tell Kara what she saw. Kara hasn’t asked. 

“Go ahead.”

She goes. Kara still feels weak. Why bring Lena here? She should be at the DEO finding answers on the museum thief. Museum robber? She used force. Some kind of meta power. Museum robber. She should be hunting her as Supergirl but she remains unsteady. Maybe running away from Kara Danvers is as pointless as running away from Supergirl, even if Kara Danvers is useless. But her weakness today had nothing to do with Kara. Not entirely. What if she’d faltered that way as Supergirl? She’s falling apart. 

She heads to the kitchen and pulls her glasses off, splashing water on her face to scrub the dried tears away. She rinses her mouth and rests her elbows on the sink, keeping her head bowed. She tries to breathe. It felt so real. Maybe it wasn’t a hallucination. Maybe it was a prophecy. 

“Kara?”

Kara straightens up, looks back at her. She’s not wearing her glasses. Kara faces away, washes the glasses in the sink, wipes the lenses on her shirt. “Hey,” she tells the sink wall. She pats her face dry with a napkin, puts her glasses back on. Lena stays by the kitchen island. She’s loosened her hair, given up on the granny look that was unkempt by the end of their museum trip. “Do you want tea? And pie?”

“Who can resist an offer like that?”

Kara makes tea. Lena stands before the blank canvas Kara’s agonized over for years, only going to the couch when Kara sets the steaming cups of tea on the coffee table. A moment later Kara’s brought two slices of freshly cut chocolate pecan pie. The first time she’s cut into it. Why does the thought of eating it make her want to cry? She brings a blanket with her to the couch, gives it to Lena, who spreads it out over both their laps as soon as Kara sits.

“What a day,” Lena says. 

It’s not even noon yet. “Yeah.”

They fold their legs on the couch, mugs of tea in hand. “Who do you think that was? The power to use someone's worst fears against them. It's terrifying.”

That didn’t occur to her. She imagined they’d all experienced some kind of hallucination. “How do you know that's what she was doing?”

“Because I saw the victims’ faces. I saw and felt… terrible things. It's a guess… but I'd wager a good one. Did Maggie escape unscathed?”

_Outside of my nearly killing her._ “I think she arrived after that woman left.”

“She has a difficult job.” 

At least she has a job. Kara tries to pinpoint whether she feels any resentment. “Yeah.” She strokes the handle of her mug. “I bet you weren’t expecting to see her so soon after yesterday.”

“I wasn’t, but I don’t mind. I’ve spent enough time with her that she doesn’t set every alarm on edge anymore.” She frowns. 

Kara wonders if there’s more to that story. “It’s nice being able to let your guard down.” 

Lena looks at her, expression unknowable and Kara feels at a loss, a loss. “Sometimes it’s dangerous.”

Oh. Kara fidgets. She sets the tea down, afraid it'll shatter in her hands. Did Lena press the button on the watch…? Her heart beats faster. For all she knows Lena is talking about her mother, her brother. Or maybe Lena's talking about her. 

“You know… earlier you asked me something and I sidestepped the question. You asked if you said anything at the museum. You did.” Kara can't swallow. “You … I heard you apologize. Over and over again. You were crying and… but you couldn't see me.” Kara lowers her gaze to her hands. “You couldn't hear me.”

Kara smooshes her lips, bites the inside of her lower one. Years fighting tears and then the choice is taken from her. All because she let her guard down. “I’m embarrassed.”

“God. Don't be. Whatever it was… it was clearly private. I wouldn't have even brought it up but… you seemed to be in so much pain. It broke my heart to see you that way.”

Kara glances at her, draws breath. 

“I know how closely you keep your cards to the vest. You seem open. You’re always smiling but you’re private.” 

Kara doesn't know how to tell her that outside of her big secret she tells Lena the most. But her big secret holds so many other things that can’t be said. Maybe she is walled off. Has she been a bad friend? “Not about everything.”

“We’re allowed to have our secrets. I have my own collection. It doesn't mean we care or trust less. But there are other secrets that… are impossible to hold for very long. They start to fester until you question who you are. If the people who care about you would accept you if they knew who you were. What you’re really capable of.”

Kara touches her glasses. Her chest is tight. What else did she say? She clears her throat. “Lena—”

“I have to…” she hesitates. “I realized something today. Something that should have been obvious long ago.” Kara wonders if she’s going to throw up again. “I've been living in fear of my lineage. Every time I have a bad reaction to something I begin to wonder if it's a normal response or something only a Luthor would do.”

“What are you talking about…?”

“I’ve done things I’m not proud of. You know, more often than not, I don’t allow myself to bask in my accomplishments. The more capable I think I am, the more I acknowledge my potential, I fear… it’s the beginning of a dark path for me. Lex is a genius. So is Lord. I don’t want hubris to be my downfall. Because if I let it take me, it won’t just be me that suffers. If I truly put my mind to work on all these projects I’ve considered… if something goes wrong… if something changes in me, that could be the beginning of the end. I could end up like Lex. Worse than Lex. And then my relationship with Supergirl will be— God, it’ll be just like Lex and Superman.”

“That won’t happen.”

“How do you know? I've lied to Supergirl.” Kara blinks. “And I hate myself for it. Now I'm wondering if I deserve her trust. I certainly don’t deserve this.” She touches the watch. “I was crazy to take it. Arrogant. To think that she gave it to me the night that she did.”

Emotion is starting to make Lena’s voice thick, but her eyes are cold and flat. Kara turns to face her. “Okay.” She can’t say _I don’t know about the night she gave it to you._ She could, but it would be another lie. Something else to fill her with shame. “It sounds like it’s been on your mind.” She’s cautious. “Do you want to talk about it?” Seconds pass. “Is this what you wanted to talk to me about the night…” _I got fired._ “Of the interview?”

Lena holds on to her tea. Her fingers are steady. She always seems steady.  She smiles apologetically. “The timing isn’t any better today.”

“But that’s my fault for not being available.” She fiddles with her fingers, stops and rubs her own knees over the blanket instead. “You’re always patient with me. I want to be here for you, the way you always are for me.” She sighs softly. “I know I’m not as good at it as you are.” She acknowledges to herself the small burst of jealousy she felt when she saw Lena, Maggie and Sam together. It always felt special to her, that as awkward as she is, Lena could choose her as a friend and confidante. What if Lena realizes Sam and Maggie are better friends? It’s her own fault for not going. She doesn’t resent Lena’s happiness or friendships. She deserves them more than anyone. Maybe it made Kara Danvers feel a little less special. “But I want to be here for you. I want to try.”

Lena softens before stiffening again. She sets her tea down on the table and faces her. Kara straightens out the blanket on their laps, smiling anxiously as their knees touch. She closes her eyes, remembering Lena’s scream when Supergirl broke her arm. She feels sick again. She scoots back.

“Then I’ll try, too,” Lena says. “Do you remember the night you were working on your ice cream piece, and you were looking at machines in the hospital?” 

Kara tries not to squirm. The excuse sounds so flimsy to her now. It embarrasses her that Lena has to say it out loud. Does Lena believe it? Does she just want to believe it? “Yes. You said…” She strokes her own fingers, “that it was a Supergirl night.”

“Well. As it turns out I lied to you and Supergirl that night.” Lena smiles ruefully. “Even now I’m trying to make excuses for myself. Soften the blow. ‘As it turns out’. It was purposeful. I lied on purpose.”

Kara looks around the room. “Okay.” She won’t ask ‘about what’. Maybe Lena just wants to tell her that she lied. Kara thinks that’s an important step forward, even if she doesn’t go into the details. That’s jarring enough.

“When Supergirl gave me the watch she said…” she laughs again, caustically this time, “that the reason I’m in danger as often as I am, is because I’m standing up for the right thing. But that’s not true. I’m a Luthor. I’m not innocent.” She narrows her eyes, thinking. Kara thinks back to that night. _I’m not good like you,_ Lena said. _Yes, you are,_ she responded. “The night Supergirl rescued me, I told her I had no idea how I got on that plane. I guess that’s true,” she muses. “But I also told her I’d gone to speak to Edge, hoping to get a confession out of him.”

Kara stills, trying to think of the best thing to say, something that won’t make a fool out of Lena, something that doesn’t make her a manipulator. She’ll ask something she doesn’t know the answer to. “Is that not what happened?”

“I did go to see Edge. But I wasn’t interested in a confession. I brought a loaded gun,” Lena says, her eyes are cold again. “I wanted to kill him.”

Kara’s heartbeat spikes. For a moment she loses control. The blanket is rough against her fingers. She can hear the water running through the pipes of the building, the screeching of a car miles away, a homeless woman pounding on the hood of that car, sirens, squirrels running in the park, Lena’s breath drawing into her lungs. Kara closes her eyes momentarily, licks her lips, trying to rein it in. Edge was right. Edge told her the truth and Lena lied to her. And she fried Edge’s hand. Edge isn’t innocent. But maybe Lena isn’t either. She feels heavy. 

“I let my guard down. I was outsmarted by _Morgan Edge._ What’s worse is that _that’s_ what stings. So there it is, that typical Luthor arrogance. That instinct to solve problems with violence.”

“But you didn’t. You wouldn’t have. You… wanted to scare him.”

“No,” Lena says calmly. “I wanted him dead. I still want him dead.” Oh, boy. “That rogue Kryptonian is out there. I told Sam— why bother with drug dealers when Edge is out there. Not only was that comment wildly inappropriate for a boss to say to her employee, but— as a human being.”

_How do you know that Worldkiller is Kryptonian?_

“But he killed people,” Lena says. “He doesn’t care who he hurts. All he cares about is his ambition. Why _should_ a monster like that get to live while innocents continue to die? Why should he continue to kill so we can all get on our moral high horse about being _better_? Isn’t that just as callous? To let him keep doing whatever the hell he wants all so we can stroke our egos?”

There is so much she could say. Even if in some ways she has no ground to stand on. She’s killed people. She’s failed others in ways that she may as well have killed them herself. Maybe she is useless. Maybe she and the NCPD are enabling Edge’s criminality by not taking drastic measures.  

“Do you know how hard it was for me to listen to Supergirl go on about my virtues… knowing what I tried to do? I’m a hypocrite. If she knew the truth, she would hate me.”

“No, she wouldn’t.” Kara says. “Supergirl isn’t perfect. She’s made mistakes. And I think… that whatever people may think about her— she always tries to understand a person’s motivations. No one is beyond redemption.” 

“I wish I could believe that.”

“I believe it. There’s good in everyone. There’s so much of it in you. There might even be some in Edge. Buried… deep. Deep, deep, deep. Very deep inside of him.” Lena smiles wryly. She hesitates. “I know you said you want him dead— or he should be dead,” _but that’s not for you to decide,_ “but… are you going to try again?” She practically whispers the words, feels her eyes burning, feels that this isn’t a conversation for Kara Danvers to be having. Doesn’t know what it will mean for them if Lena answers in the affirmative. “To kill him?”

Lena smiles softly. “No. I won’t give him that kind of power over me. I don’t want _Morgan Edge_ to be the start of my terrible descent. He’s not worth it.” Kara breathes again. “If I’m honest… I can admit that it’s bothered me. That it hasn’t bothered me more. I thought… I’m not normal. I can’t feel things the ways others can. This…madness that runs in the Luthor family. Maybe it runs in me, too. Lex wasn’t always _Lex._ He was kind to me. He accepted and cared for me. And then one day he started to slip away. These ideas took hold of him. He thought… only he could save this world from the alien menace. From Superman. I thought it was a phase. I’d looked up to him so much. All I wanted was my brother to come back. I thought…that I could save him. That I could make him see the light. But I couldn’t. He’s tried to have me killed since then. I didn’t give up on him after the first attempt, or the second. But eventually I realized… you can’t save everyone.” Her voice is blank. “Maybe even myself. I’ve feared it. That something… has been sleeping inside of me. Something cold and mean.” 

Lena was still when Jack died, more so than she is today. She talked of her losses. Her fears. _When Lex was arrested my mother was there. My mother saw her son, dragged, bleeding and raving from her house. And when I got there, Lillian was tidying his room. Like he’d been away on a business trip. That’s how I feel. Cold and calm. Until I think about Beth dying in jail and then I feel warm for a second. I think when I feel things again, I’m going to be very, very afraid… of the person I might be._ It saddens Kara, that someone as good as Lena can think she’s bad, less, dangerous.

Lena looks at her. “I’ve tried not to give into my emotions. Sometimes I think they’ll destroy me.”

Kara can’t remember the last time she fully gave in to her emotions. More than crime and thugs, that’s what she’s fought hardest since arriving on Earth. Displaying emotions isn’t very Kryptonian. And it isn’t safe for a Kryptonian on this planet. “I think there’s darkness in all of us.”

“Even you?” 

“Even me.” When she was under the influence of the red kryptonite, she played with Cat, throwing her off the CatCo balcony as if she were a joke. She would have killed Alex. She terrorized National City. Giving in to herself felt liberating. It made her warm to not have to hold back. It terrifies her that she could lose her way again. Is Alex afraid of her? Does she think the steps she’s taken with Edge have been too far? But who’s Alex to judge her? She’s done worse. So much worse. _But she’s a human with human limitations. You have to do better._ “But I think… however we feel, what ultimately matters are our actions. How we choose to respond to our hardships. You haven’t had an easy life. You’ve faced so much mistrust. No one would have blamed you for being pessimistic and mean, but you’re not. You’re… open and generous and kind. And I know some people think you’re cold, even _you_ think you’re cold, but you are… genuinely… the warmest person I’ve ever met.”

“… really?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. 

Lena breathes slowly. “When Jack died… you came to me. You brought flowers. I couldn’t feel anything. And you said that I wouldn’t lose you. That you would always be my friend, always protect me. I wanted to believe it, but I couldn’t let myself believe it. Because if that day came and you couldn’t hold on to it…” She lifts her eyes, shakes her head. “I thought this would be the day that I made you break your promise.”

“I meant what I said that day. I’ll always mean it.”

“What if Edge hadn’t outsmarted me that night? What if I had killed him? Would you still stand by my side?”

Kara licks her lips. “I think… that I would still love you. And we would figure it out.”

Lena’s eyes fog. “Are you going to tell Maggie?”

“ _No._ ” 

Lena takes a breath, lowers her head. “I haven’t been able to tell Supergirl. I felt safer telling you. Isn’t that strange? She’s the Girl of Steel, but I feel safer with you.” Kara tries to control her breathing. “If I told her, she would think I’m no different from him. I would lose her. There’s this… dark side of me. It’s there, no matter how hard I try to ignore it. And because of who I am, I have to clamp down on it, hard. And sometimes I think, if Supergirl knew about it, if others knew the depths of that person… That it would change everything. That I would be alone.”

Kara twines her fingers again, hands rubbing her thighs anxiously. She has to tell her. She’ll have to tell her. Lillian said Lena would hate her. The hallucination from the museum still clings to her. Lena’s a safe space. The only one who treats her as if she were anyone else, and treats her with respect. Who doesn’t dismiss her problems, her anxieties, who can’t come back with ‘but you’re Supergirl’. Lena, who treats her as a person who can hurt. “Thank you for trusting me.” 

Lena smiles. “You make it easy.”

Kara thinks about confessing. Can’t. Would Lena be able to talk to her the way she does if she knew Kara Danvers was Supergirl? No. Things would change between them. Every small thing would become significant in a different way than it is now. Lena would be afraid to confide in her. But what if by not telling her she’s abusing her trust? What if this is one of those secrets that isn’t okay? What if she should tell her? 

“For what it’s worth…” Kara speaks slowly. “I think… there are some things that… we have to come to in our own way. When it feels right for us. So… maybe you will tell Supergirl one day,” she flushes, “and maybe she’ll confide in you, too.”

“What could she confide in a mere mortal like me? She’s practically a god.”

Kara stiffens. Lena’s words are the same mantra she’s repeated to herself since Mon-El died. She’s not a human. She’s better. Stronger. Invincible. But the words pierce her. Supergirl told Lena how afraid and sad she was after what the red kryptonite did to her. She told her she trusted Lena with her life. Maybe it didn't mean the same to Lena. “I don’t know,” Kara mumbles.

Lena looks at her a while. “I’m sorry. That was callous.” 

Kara shakes her head. Smiles quickly. “It’s fine.” She hopes she’s only imagining her voice sounding louder than it is. “She’s not here, so. It’s fine.” She smiles again. Lena looks at her longer. “And I’m not going to tell her. So.”

“That’s lucky,” she says lightly, leaning back into the couch. “She has confided in me. I've felt unworthy. Anytime greatness like that is around me…” she smiles, “I have a hard time believing she could picture me as an equal. So I resort to sarcasm. Note: work on my defensiveness.” Kara shifts on the couch to lean back against it, too. She wants to sleep. “Now. Don’t think we’re going to just abandon this pie. Is this chocolate pecan?”

“Yes. Eliza made it.” The words stick in her throat. “It’s my favorite.”

“You said Thanksgiving was only,” Lena makes a so-so gesture with her hand. “Are things better with Alex?”

“No. But that’s my fault. She’s been trying to work with me, but … I’ve been stubborn. I’ve wanted to do it all on my own. I just wish she would trust me.”

“Maybe she does trust you, but she’s worried. I can imagine your frustration, though. Can I ask what it is you want to do on your own?” 

“It’s the same thing as last time. Figure out who I am. Ever since Mon-El died I’ve felt lost. Like…I’m at a crossroads. And I think I know how to move forward— or at least I know how I _want_ to move forward but … it’s hard to make it work. No matter what I choose… it seems like something always gets in the way. And Alex wants me to hurry up and be better. She wants things to go back to the way they were, and some part of me does, too. Because I hate change. I hate letting people down. I have to evolve, but I feel stuck.”

“What's making you feel that way?”

“I’m having a hard time moving on. It’s more than Mon-El.” Especially when two years aren’t particularly long for her. “It’s hard to move on when I don’t know what I want to move on _to_.”

“Are there things that are making it hard to figure out?”

Kara smiles, looks at her. “Yeah. But… they're things that I don’t want to give up. Haven’t been able to give up.” 

Lena considers, has a drink of tea. “Then … maybe you're making this harder for yourself than it has to be. Maybe there doesn't have to be a fork in the road and you don’t have to choose. Maybe … you find a new path. One that lets you move forward while not giving up those things you care about. What's that expression, no sense throwing out the baby with the bath water?” Kara smiles. “Maybe all you need is time and it'll come together. Isn't that what you just said to me? Wait until you're ready. If you can’t move on just yet… then don't. Take that time you need. Only you know what's best for you. But… sometimes we have to be honest with ourselves about what feels right versus what we think we want. Sometimes we have to work with what we have, you know?”

Kara nods. “Thanks.” She takes a breath. “That's good food for thought.”

“Think CatCo will let me write an _Ask Lena_ column?”

 “I’d write in every day.”

Lena chuckles, has another drink of tea. “I hate to ask but… any word from CatCo?” Kara shakes her head. “Any… possibilities on the horizon?”

Kara wants to tell her that she hasn’t looked. That if it wasn’t for her savings she’d be homeless. Not that Alex or Lena would ever allow that. Maybe even Maggie wouldn’t. “I’m not sure there’s anything out there that’s a good fit. CatCo wasn’t. I did okay with Ms. Grant for a while but that’s not an option anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve already been replaced. I chose my own replacement, years ago. Anyway… this is probably like the fifth time she’s fired me.” She shakes her head, has a bite of pie. Feels better. “I have a hard time staying at work.”

“Okay. But why? Cat Grant’s an impossible woman and you made it through that.”

“Things changed. I changed.” She awaits fearfully for Lena to ask how but she doesn't. She loves her for not asking. “And ever since things changed… I can’t make it work.”

“Is it the panic attacks…?”

Kara considers the question. It's not untrue. She's tried to ignore rushing out before. The panic attacks that followed were debilitating. “They’re a part of it.”

Lena scoots closer, their shoulders touching as they eat in silence. “Tell me if I’m out of line but… if it's creating this kind of disruption… maybe you could benefit from therapy. A therapist might have some coping mechanisms for you. Maybe they could help identify the root of what's going on.”

Kara pokes at the pie. “You’re not out of line, but I have a hard time talking to people about things. You being the exception, of course.” Lena smiles. Kara isn’t sure if talking with a therapist will dismantle her. She tries not to think of the horrors she’s seen. She tries to lock them away in her mind, but they surface, sometimes waking her in the night. “Anyway, I don't know if I can afford therapy right now.”

“And I’m guessing you'd shoot your best friend down for even thinking of offering.”

Kara smiles apologetically. “It’s not just that. I don’t think I’m ready right now. Have you ever gone?”

“In the past. When I was younger. Much, much younger. Lillian thought I cried too much. Can you imagine that?”

Kara wants to touch her, looks down instead to see the fork bending in her hand. She tries to straighten it without Lena noticing. “I can imagine you being caring and sensitive. Actually, I don’t have to imagine that.”

Lena smiles gently. “I really do love you, Kara Danvers.”

She knows. She wonders if she always will. “Then I’m lucky.” 

“Me, too. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

She’s unemployed. But she needs to go to the DEO. She needs to find out who that woman was. She’s seen her. Remembers her face now. She should talk to Alex. She should talk to Winn. She should talk to all those people Kara Danvers has let down. Or maybe it’s best to let it go. She shouldn’t overpromise. She shouldn’t risk letting them down again. She isn’t sure she can commit to Kara Danvers. Maybe she can commit to her a little. “I’m not sure.”

“All right. Well, I have an idea, and I’ll let you decide if it’s obnoxious. I was half expecting Sam to cancel Thanksgiving. She’s had a lot going on, so I ended up buying a turkey breast for a party of one,” she points at herself, “I figured I’d just have leftovers but… You owe me stuffing and… I _may_ have seen a lonely can of cranberry sauce sitting on your kitchen island. We have pie…” she nods, to their plates, “I have wine… why don’t we make up for yesterday at mine? I’ll take care of everything. We can have company, not have company, put up the Christmas tree, whatever you like.”

Kara looks at her, flushes. “Okay. That sounds good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She discretely slips the handle of the fork into her shirt sleeve, unable to have straightened it. Her face heats more. “Would it be okay if it’s just the two of us?”

Lena smiles. “Just the two of us it is.”

 

 

 


	10. Poison

A/N: Warning: this is a pretty violent chapter.

 

A/N2 : The name "Julie" was causing some confusion with Julia, the Worldkiller, so I just changed the name to 'Anna' so people aren't waiting for a follow up in that regard!

 

* * *

  

Kara leaves the interview and Supergirl swoops onto Lena’s balcony at L-Corp, bursting into the office. Lena’s prone on the floor, frothing at the mouth. Maxwell Lord kneels next to her, carefully turning her head to the side. Supergirl freezes, her own breath impossibly loud in her ears. It comes faster and faster. Lord. Again. The anger takes her, eyes glowing red, fists clenching. She hones in on him. She’ll do what she should have done long ago.

“I want you to keep your mouth shut and listen to me,” Lord says. “I’m the one who called you here on this cereal prize watch. Someone’s poisoned her. It wasn’t me.” He cups a hand over Lena’s mouth, breathes. “It’s cyanide. She’ll be dead before we can get her to a hospital. Take her to your sister, now.”

Time ticks. Everything’s clear and loud. She’s losing control again. Lena’s heartbeat is slowing, her skin going grey. Supergirl loses her footing, touches Lena’s work desk. It cracks at her shaking hand, collapsing into pieces.

“Hey!” Lord looks up at her. “You better move your ass or your girlfriend’s dead.” Supergirl takes a few cautious steps forward. “Every second counts. What the hell is the matter with you?”

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

The office door swings open. Sam walks in, rubbing her forehead, eyes foggy. “Lena, I’m sorry to interrupt—” she stops, her haze lifting. “What the hell? Lena? Lena!” She drops her stack of papers, goes to her. Sam’s panic fills the room. Supergirl watches Sam, her alien brain registering everything faster than the human eye. Everything happens in slow motion. Such panic. Sam hardly knows Lena. Supergirl thinks that she herself may be the one that’s broken. “Oh my God. What’s happening—”

“She’s been poisoned,” Lord says to her. “But don’t worry, Supergirl’s going to make sure everything’s all right.” Sam looks up at her, tears in her eyes, finds her phone, fumbles with it. There’s a crack in the glass. Sam’s fingers are like clumsy sausages as she attempts to dial those three little numbers. Is she calling because Supergirl isn’t moving? Because she doesn’t have faith in her?

“Do you really want to hate yourself forever?” Lord asks. He shakes his head, stoops to pick Lena up, carries her to Supergirl. “You have to get it together. You don’t have a choice.” He carefully places Lena into her arms. She weighs nothing. Supergirl sees that vision from the museum, Lena’s bones splintering like matchsticks in her hands, blood splattered like a Pollock painting. Supergirl thinks of all those things she never said, all those things she hid, all those things she thought she might one day tell her. Another home soon to be lost. “I’ll call your sister and give her the heads up. Go.”

She holds her breath, carries Lena gingerly to the balcony. Sam follows. “Where are you taking her? Please don’t let anything happen to her— please—”

Supergirl takes a deep breath. Her world is collapsing in on itself. Maybe she can outrace it.

 

X

_Who did this?_

Supergirl is in the air miles away when Sam asks. The answer doesn’t matter now. What matters is getting Lena to the DEO. Getting her to Alex who’s on the phone with Lord and medical equipment on standby when they arrive. Supergirl carefully sets her down on the bed, forcing herself to not touch Lena’s face, her hands, to make her concrete. She looks at Alex, who is serious and in control. Alex has always been stronger than she is.

Alex squeezes her wrist. They wheel Lena away.

Supergirl stands, choking on heat and salt. Things she can’t let out. She crosses her arms and tries to get her chin to stop quaking. Winn goes to her, tablet in hand. For minutes he stands there, maybe waiting for her to speak first, maybe just being a quiet presence. He types on the tablet and turns to her. “You know Alex isn't going to let anything happen to her. She's got this.”

Supergirl considers their recently contentious relationship. Alex won’t let it affect her. “I'm going to find out who did this.”

He looks at her. “ _Now_?”

“I can’t wait here doing nothing. If Alex can do this then I can be out there, doing something. Finding out who did this.”

“Okay, okay, but Kara,” he says her name quietly, “maybe you should sit this one out. Whoever did this can wait. Don't you want to wait…”

“Wait for _what_? She's not going to die.” She hates how she sounds, the emotion in the declaration, the refusal. Winn’s compassion makes her throat close. “I can’t be here right now.”

“Okay,” he's resigned. “I’ll keep working on that bank and museum robber lady. I’ll let you know if—”

“Right.” She's off.

X

Supergirl drops onto the road. The shining car veers to avoid hitting her, slams on the breaks. Sunlight glints off the sides. Supergirl steps back. Maxwell Lord climbs out of the backseat, straightens his jacket. Supergirl can smell the leather seats, his cologne.

“I really ought to thank you,” he says. “Self-driving car. New line I’m coming out with. We’ve been testing reaction times with cars, idiots on bikes, animals, even you.” He looks at the car. “A few adjustments and it should even be Supergirl proof.”

“Are you sure about that?”

He cocks his head. “You know, cyanide poisoning is deadly to humans. Ms. Arias got the proper team there to handle cleanup, sealed the floor off. I had to submit to a hazard team, fend off police questioning. I helped Lena out, and this is the thanks I get.” He tsks. “I thought we were getting along.”

“How did this happen to her?”

“I already told you.”

“ _When_ did it happen to her?”

“What’s the matter, Supergirl? Can’t wait for her to wake up and ask her yourself? Afraid she isn’t going to make it?” He lifts his hands when she steps towards him. “We were meeting.”

“About what?”

“I don’t think that’s relevant to your line of questioning.” He chuckles. “All this time later and she still hasn’t told you. Well. I guess that makes you two even.” She looks at his car, considers crushing it like a sardine can. “Look, you want to know about the poisoning? Find out who got to the coffee. It came from in house.”

“And you had nothing to do with that?”

“I thought you were supposed to be trusting and hopeful. You’re as surly as your sister.” She moves to his car, rolls her fist and sets it delicately on the hood of the car. “Take it down a notch. No, I had nothing to do with it. Lena’s one of our best. With her intellect on hand we can help fight back the alien menace. Why would I jeopardize that?”

“Do you know who might want to poison her?”

“I don’t know, Supergirl, how about everyone in National City?”

“What about your business partner, Morgan Edge? He doesn’t care who he hurts. I guess the two of you have that in common.”

“Get a new line. I heard what you did to his hand.” He waves it away, smiles. “Bygones.”

“Was it him? Did he know you were meeting with her?”

Lord eases his hands into his pockets, looks at her. “Do you think we share a calendar?”

“I’m not hearing a ‘no’.”

“Fine. Let’s do it your way. I tell you that I may have mentioned that I was planning on meeting with Lena today to Edge. Hypothetically. He throws a temper tantrum and has her poisoned. Then what do you do?” he asks. “Do you go to him and have a stern conversation? Or do you find the few officers he doesn’t have in his pocket at the NCPD to take him in? Is that _really_ going to make up for what he did to her? Will you feel better knowing that he’s still out there?” She grits her jaw. “Why don’t we do this. You scratch my back and I scratch yours? You admit that I’m a surprising guy. A guy who saved your Lena Luthor. And I say to you, hey, you’re not the monster I thought you were. But,” he perks “some might argue, the one that lets the monster get away is the true monster.”

Supergirl thinks back to Lena’s words the day after Thanksgiving. Not killing to save face, to be on a high horse. “I’ve killed people before.”

“Never proactively,” he tsks, gets into his car. “Big mistake.”

 

X

The police are gone and Lena is missing.

She’s tired of this hateful city and the poison that flows through its veins. This is the second assassination attempt on Lena that she knows of. Supergirl was shaking when she took her. If Supergirl went after the vermin of this city things would be different. People would be safe. Supergirl is irresponsible. A woman who quakes cannot inspire.

There are cameras everywhere at L-Corp. She searches the video feeds. Eventually She finds something. Someone. A slight of hand. She disables the cameras and goes. She has questions.

X

She washes her hands in the sink, red swirling down the drain until the water runs clean. She dries Her hands under the automatic hand dryer. Her reflection stares back at Sam in the mirror. Sam looks around, disoriented. She’s alone in Lena’s bathroom in her office. It smells odd. Like a dog that's been ripped open. An old, familiar smell. Why is she in here? She exits. Lena’s desk is shattered.

She starts collecting the pieces. The events of the day slowly come back to her. The police came. People in hazmat suits. Nothing more. She can’t piece it together. She can’t piece this desk together. She turns on the television. No one seems to know that Lena has been poisoned, and she wonders who in National City would care. _She_ would care. Kara. Maggie. She isn’t sure whether she should tell them. What good could it do right now? What can they do? Supergirl will save her. Supergirl has to.

Morgan Edge is on TV, doing a tour of Edge Global, followed by a reporter.

_Morgan, is there any truth to what you said about Supergirl attacking you?_

_You think I’d make something like that up?_

_Supergirl’s a hero. Some have accused you of drumming up anti-alien hysteria._

_Supergirl can’t see through lead, right? If I wasn’t worried, do you think I would have made my office lead proof?_ _The day she shows up here, may be the last day I’m alive. You mark my words. She has a bad temper. All it takes is one bad day._

_You’re having a bad day yourself. The city has rescinded its offer of the Waterfront property._ Edge’s smile doesn’t waver. _They might make it a park for Supergirl after all._

_I don’t know where you’re getting your information, but it’s bad, okay? It’d be short-sighted for the city to throw away jobs and development for some afterschool message of unity. You know what really brings a city together? A strong economy. You start giving away all our hard earned money to welfare for people who aren’t even from here… I mean, is this America or what? Not some socialist—_

Sam shuts the television off. She’s still except for her fingers twitching. There are whispers all around her, cloaking her in black.

X

_Hi, this message is for Kara Danvers. This is Anna, we met earlier but we didn’t get to finish. You left suddenly. I hope everything is okay. Normally I wouldn’t follow up with someone who leaves in the middle of an interview but you had such a nice, calming aura to you, that I wanted to touch base. If you want to try to set something else up we can do that. The number you can reach me at is—_

Kara deletes the message and sets the phone aside. She sits outside Edge Global. She could walk in right now, as what Lena said she is: her secret weapon, mild-mannered Kara Danvers. The sky is gunmetal grey. What _could_ she do to Morgan Edge? What _couldn’t_ she do to Morgan Edge?

She could cut him in half and no one could stop her. The DEO could stop her after the fact. Maybe. She isn’t sure if they really got rid of their kryptonite. It would have been stupid of them to have done it. Superman can’t fight her. He’s soft. Earth has made him that way. She sits, watching people move in and out of the building. She ought to feel something more. That flush of anger that came when she found Lord standing over Lena has dissipated. She doesn’t know where it came from or where it went. Now she’s back to stillness.

Maybe this is just one of those things that make her the way that she is. When Jeremiah came back she was the same way. Too logical. Cold. She fought with Alex about it. She was told she didn’t act like family. It hurt, but her main focus had been on Alex, who was emotional and irrational. How could she take something like that personally? With Alex, she can’t be multiple things at once. She has to be one thing. Her kind sister, no room for anything else. She thinks Alex would hate those kinds of thoughts.

She closes her eyes and breathes out slowly, memories coming to the surface: holding the ladder for Lena as she climbed it to set the star on top of the Christmas tree, after their Thanksgiving dinner. Lena isn’t religious, but she got into the holiday spirit. _It’s wobbly!_ Lena said, looking down at her, clutching to the top of the ladder. Kara smiled back. _I’ve got you._

Maybe Lena’s dead right now at the DEO and no one’s told her. Maybe they’ve already begun cutting into her to start their autopsy. Maybe they haven’t told her because they’re afraid of what she’ll do. Who she’ll become. Maybe they’re afraid she would be the exact same person. She should be crying. Her eyes are dry. It’s for the best. Being emotional is a risk. She should be composed. She can’t help anyone if she breaks. Maybe she’s incapable of breaking. That’s why Myriad got Superman but it couldn’t get her. She’s too alien. But that’s what saved her. What saved the world. What will keep saving everyone.

Morgan Edge walks out of the building. His hand remains bandaged. Kara stands. A breeze picks up. He walks briskly. She follows from a distance. He won’t lose her. He is incapable of losing her. She is incapable of losing him. He moves towards the parking lot. She still follows, hands in her pockets. She doesn’t know it was him. Not really. She suspects it was him. Suspicion isn’t enough. But he poisoned and killed people. He hired mercenaries in a submarine to bomb the Girl of Steel unveiling. He put children in hospitals. Ruby’s friend Luke died. That was all Edge. _He_ is poison to National City. Maybe she’s the antidote.

Her phone rings. It isn’t on silent. She stops. He stops. He looks over to her. She walks towards him. Edge smiles, uncertain. She pulls the phone from her pocket. Alex calling. Lena is either dead or alive. Maybe Edge’s fate is just as binary.

The phone continues to ring, even when she’s standing right in front of him. He keeps his keys in his hands, holding them like a woman might, the key between his fingers, ready to strike. There’s an uncertain gleam in his eye. Paranoia or fear. Does he know who she is? He thinks he knows. How can he when she doesn’t? If she takes the call things might remain still or everything will collapse. She could never take the call. She could never return to the DEO. She could never know. She picks up the phone.

X

She’s alive.

Lena sits up on the bed, groggy. Supergirl watches her through the glass between them. She regulates her breathing. Lena wipes cautiously at her own mouth. She’s still pale. Supergirl keeps her hands on her hips. Edge is still alive. Lord said not killing people proactively was a mistake. Is he right? Is the DEO right? Is she naive? Dropping Edge onto an oil tanker in the middle of an ocean did nothing. He’s not afraid of her. The only people who fear her are those who fear her alienness. The people she actually confronts are another matter. Edge called her a bull in a China shop. Maybe it’s worse. Maybe she’s just a big, clumsy, stupid ox.

Lena looks around in a daze, past the glass. Her eyes settle on her. Supergirl keeps her hands on her hips, nods. Lena’s attention returns to Alex, who stands in front of her with a tablet, reciting off a number of things. Lena grimaces, touches a hand to her shoulder, wincing. Supergirl stiffens. Did she hurt her? Alex says something, Lena shakes her head. Supergirl forces herself not to listen.

Minutes pass. Eventually Alex exits. “She’s going to make a full recovery. You got her here in the nick of time, and Lord helped us identify the culprit.” Supergirl isn’t sure it wasn’t him. “So don’t worry. No lasting damage.” Supergirl nods stiffly, her mouth glued shut. “She’s stubborn and won’t stay longer for observation. Normally we’d have her escorted out with an armed guard, but maybe you’d care to walk her out.”

“I will.”

“I’m glad she’s okay. Well. She’s all yours.”

She takes a few steps down the hall. Supergirl follows her. Stops when Alex turns. “Winn said you wouldn’t let anything happen to her and he was right. I couldn’t have saved her on my own. Thank you.”

“You bet.” She cocks her head in Lena’s direction, walks off.

Supergirl looks after her, thinking there should have been more, unsure if the lapse is with her or with Alex. It was hard to get those words out and they didn’t seem to mean anything. She goes to the examination room. Lena gets to her feet. Kara wants to hug her. Supergirl doesn’t.

X

Lena insists on returning to L-Corp. Supergirl carries her there. It’s strange when it isn’t a life or death situation, even if this day has been life or death. They don’t look at one another, their gaze too heavy to bear. Supergirl doesn’t know what would become of her if something happened to Lena and it scares her.

They walk into the office. Supergirl scans it for any traps. There’s nothing. She sees particles of the desk on the floor. Invisible to the human eye. She smells blood, looks to the bathroom. Maybe it’s nothing to worry about. She doesn’t see anything strange.

“Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea?” Lena smiles bashfully. “Do you like either of those?”

Supergirl doesn’t want to do those things with Lena that she does as Kara Danvers. “I can’t stay very long.”

“All right.”

Supergirl’s eyes drift to her shoulders. Is she bruised? Are the back of her thighs bruised? She’s so pale. It would look like wet ink on marble. “Do you know who might have done this?”

“I wish I could say the list of people that want to kill me is short but it’s not.”

“Do you think Maxwell Lord had anything to do with it?” Lena’s shaking her head before Supergirl finishes the question. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. He needs me.”

“For what?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“You mean you don’t want to tell me.” She sounds like a jealous lover. Or what she imagines a jealous lover might sound like.

“Supergirl… you may have saved my life, but that doesn’t mean I owe you every aspect of my life.” Supergirl crosses her arms. “And it isn’t that I don’t want to tell you. I do. I trust you.”

Supergirl isn’t sure. Lena lied to Supergirl about Morgan Edge. What else is she keeping from her? Why does she trust Supergirl less? Is it because she’s an alien? Because of Lex’s relationship with Superman? It doesn’t matter, will never matter so long as Supergirl has her own secrets. They are allowed their own secrets. She says nothing. Lena rubs the back of her neck, goes to the couch to sit.

“I was waiting for a ‘but’,” Lena says.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Lena looks away. Supergirl always has to control her breathing around her. “That's only fair. I've never asked you to explain.”

Supergirl shifts her weight, bows her head, looks back at her. “So if you don't think it was Lord, who do you think it was?”

“Again, the list of suspects is long, but I’d say Morgan Edge is at the top of that list.”

“Why?” She doubts Lena will mention trying to kill him. Frankly, she’s waiting for another reason.

“I don't know all the details, but it seems that the city was scared off by rumors that he was involved with the Acre Lee Chemical attack. They're worried about the backlash. They're floating returning the property to me. To permanently house your statue.”

“It’s been defaced.” What does it say about her that she considers the _False God_ a blasphemy?

“It's still standing. Your monument is more than a statue. It's in the people of National City and the good you inspire.”

She isn’t sure she’s inspired enough good if Worldkiller is out there and Lena thinks killing Edge is the right decision. But she’s thought it, too. What if Alex had called to say that Lena had died? She’s slipping. “Will you file a statement with the police? If you think Edge was involved in all of this?”

Lena gives a light shake of her head. “I don’t want to make a spectacle. He’s looking to have me come off as paranoid and hysterical. I have to find Sam. She must be worried sick. I’m sure the police were here. I know you’re acquainted with Detective Sawyer. I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention my suspicions to her.”

She doesn’t understand her resistance to the police. Maybe if Lena had gone those other times, he wouldn’t have been free to try to poison her today. “Your affairs are your own, Ms. Luthor.”

Lena smiles wryly. “Here I was expecting another ‘but.’”

Supergirl narrows her eyes. “But I’m not sure distrusting Morgan Edge and cozying up with Maxwell Lord is smart.”

“‘Cozying up’? That’s too far.”

“You keep meeting with him.”

Lena stands. “As is my right. I can take care of myself, Supergirl.”

_Obviously._ She’s afraid Lena _can’t_ take care of herself. She doesn’t say that she wants to help care for her. Is she being condescending?

“He was the one who called you to me,” Lena says. “I don’t trust him, but I’ll work with him. You’ve worked with him in the past, too. Sometimes the ends justify the means.”

“What ‘ends’ are you working towards?”

“The night you gave this to me,” she lifts the watch, “you said you trusted me with your life. I know it’s a big ask, and maybe I don’t deserve it, but— _trust me._ I’m trying to do the right thing.”

Supergirl isn’t sure why she’s arguing with her. She could tell her that Lord always goes for the most extreme solutions first. She isn’t sure Lena can hear her right now. Supergirl knows what it’s like to close yourself off from the world to focus on your single minded purpose. “I’m glad you’re safe, Ms. Luthor.” She turns.

“I want us both to be safe, Supergirl. Sometimes that means taking risks.”

“Don’t take any risks on my behalf.”

“That’s my decision.”

Maybe it’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black. “You should have stayed at the DEO for further observation.”

“Agent Danvers wasn’t happy I chose to leave. Honestly, I was surprised to wake up there.”

The energy has shifted, cooling from the rolling boil of moments ago. Supergirl eases, faces her again. “Were you scared?”

“A little. Cadmus is a black ops government offshoot. I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t Mother’s handiwork. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d kidnapped me. Though the first time she wouldn’t have left me for dead.”

“I’m sorry you were scared.” She knows what it’s like to wake up there, unsure of where she is, how she got there.

“Seeing Agent Danvers helped. She mentioned you got me there quickly enough to be saved.”

Supergirl worries that Lena knows Alex works for the DEO. Does Lena know? “She does good work.”

“Are you close?”

What if she knows? “She’s someone I know. I admire her.”

“I’m grateful to you both.” Lena meets her eyes. “Maybe I can’t always manage taking care of myself on my own. If you hadn’t given me this watch, I’d be dead. If Lord hadn’t pushed the button. It makes me rethink some things. I’m used to going at things alone. Sometimes that’s… not so efficient.”

Supergirl folds her arms again. “Whatever you’re working on with Lord… I hope you know you can rely on me, too.”

“I don’t want to rely on you, Supergirl. Ever since I came to National City… I’ve given up a lot of things. Taken others for granted. Gotten comfortable. I’m not sure that’s a path I can take. I have to be able to do it on my own. As much as I can. I won’t always have the luxury of having you at my side.”

The same words that have echoed through her mind. She hopes she’s less frustrating. “Don’t I get to decide that?”

“Sometimes the choice is taken from us.”

“You just said that you saw the benefit of working with others. I don’t understand why you’ll rely on Lord but shut me out.”

“I’m not relying on Lord and I’m not shutting you out. I wish I could explain.” She takes a step closer to her, crosses her own arms, looks off. “Lord and I… we’re more alike than the two of us.”

“Because he’s human?”

Lena eyes soften. “No.”

X

The news reports aren't accurate. They haven't caught up to Her. Neither have the police. She has heard the screams of this city. She has seen tears of terror and gratitude. The poison of this city is being eradicated. She is the antidote.

Those who prey on the weak and the innocent scurry like rats. They talk about Her in the underworld. They have hidden but they will not be hidden.

She descends, smashing through windows, crashing through roofs. She rips open cars as if they were aluminum. Not all rejoice in Her arrival. Some have misplaced sympathy for their abusers. They have been indoctrinated into thinking change can happen, will happen, that sin merits forgiveness. It does not. There are those who are worthy, those who are not. There are those who bring purpose to this planet, and others who are rotten, their stench infesting the lives of those who are accustomed to violence and pain. They cannot see with the clarity She can.

This creation is strong and magnificent. She is the perfect specimen to cleanse the impurity of this city. She will begin in National City, but will not stop until the world has seen Her, until they tremble, and learn their aberration will not be tolerated. The vermin will be extinguished. She is the solution.

There are those who try to stop Her. Their bullets are repelled, burrowing into brains and chests. Those who escape that reflection are lucky. Their end is swift at Her hands, but agonizing.

They offer Her money. They offer Her tribute. They offer their children, their service, but there is nothing to give. She does not negotiate. She is merely judgment. Their wickedness cannot be rectified. They are all the same in Her eyes.

She finds the police officer from the news. The one Supergirl deposited at the police station without completing her work. Supergirl relied on the laws of men to rectify evil. Fool woman. She sees the fractures from the arm arm that was previously broken, the cracks in his ribs. Supergirl is not merciful. Supergirl is weak. If Supergirl had not failed in her duty, this same man would not be hitting a woman he claims to love. He chases the woman around the home. The name-tag gleams on his chest. The blood gleams on the woman’s face.

Reign crashes down.

The roof that was previously patched explodes inward. She sees through the debris and particles of dust. Their surprised cries don’t stop Her. She takes his arm and snaps it again. Once. Twice. Three times until it hangs useless. Even animals don’t make sounds like he does. She takes the belt from his hand. Milliseconds later She drops it to the floor, bloodied. He falls with a gentle thud. The beaten woman who claimed to be a mother and allowed abuse to persist, shouts and shrieks at Her. Abuse does not excuse abuse. It does not excuse negligence. She too is a sinner.

Reign ends her. There’s peace in stillness. Reign picks up the photograph of the family. Sees a young teenage girl. Slightly older than…

She’s vexed. Older than…

Her head hurts.

A door swings open. The girl from the photograph. The carpet soaks up blood. The walls are splattered with it. Reign’s face drenched in it. Eyes glow red.

“Supergirl…?”

“No. You’re safe now,” She tells her.

X

Blood is Her baptism. Clouds wash it away so She may begin anew. She listens to the world. Sometimes She is called to it. National City will be the first city She conquers but it does not mean She ignores the rest of the world.

It weeps in agony. It has gone undefended for too long. Its abusive tendencies have been encouraged by inaction. She wades into civil wars, where the scorching heat of the sun does not faze Her. A world where militants drive into villages, demanding children for armies, daughters to be sacrificed into sex slavery. There are families who refuse these warlords and they’re butchered with machetes. Others are burned alive. Other, more pragmatic families, offer their young sons and daughters to these men, in order to spare their other, younger children. Their reasoning is of no consequence. They are sinners all the same.

Reign lands. They look at Her as if She were a devil. This world believes in such things. They spit words at Her, nearly as fast as their bullets. She catches and returns them. Houses crumble, gates reduced to pebbles under the force of Her strength. The men caught in the crossfire spazz and buckle, left looking like tattered, bloody laundry on the side of the road. The abused who become the abusers must also die. Once innocence is lost, it cannot be recouped. This includes the child soldiers, who tremble. Killers deserve no mercy, no matter how their circumstances shaped them.

They look so young and small. Their tiny bodies her fists have ripped through look like burst firecrackers. Reign stops, inhales. The air is hot, and sticky. It tastes like dirt. She looks around the barren land. The poor homes. There are cows and goats roaming freely. Where is she? What is this? A dream? A nightmare. The worst nightmare. She's covered in blood. There is a boy attached to her arm, as if she’d lanced through him like a pipe. Her hand is coming out of the other side of his chest. She feels it, wet, hot and sticky. An assault rifle clings to his fingers. His head is rolled back, eyes wide, mouth frozen in a scream. He’s so small. Just a child.

Sam

**_No_ ** _._

Reign screams. Villagers run back, hands to their ears. Others collapse, twitching as if having been hit by an electric bolt. The ground opens up beneath her but Reign flies.

X

“Something is wrong,” She tells Zor-El through clenched teeth. Zor-El keeps his hands laced behind his back. Reign looks around the cave fortress, the rocky walls continue to pulse lava-like.

“Nothing is wrong,” he tells Her, “you are following your directive.”

“I feel her.” Like an itch inside, impossible to scratch, impossible to reach. She has tried, fingers prying at her skin, trying to rip it open and not succeeding. “She’s interfering.”

“You’ve only just awoken. It will take time to truly inhabit this skin. You will grow stronger. You will discover other talents that will make Your work easier. You were not designed to fail.”

The strength of Her design depends on the talents of Her creator. Her hand comes to the mask at Her face, fingers twitching, squeezing, before She forces the hand back to Her side. “You let her breed. It—” She stops, wincing. This body is incapable of pain, yet spikes are being driven into Her brain making Her vision waver. She sees the girl’s stupid face. Another woman She only barely recognizes. These images are burned into Her mind. There’s someone else. That man from the parking garage. “There is a man,” She tells him. “He’s killed without repercussion. I feel the anger of this Samantha Arias. It is the only righteous thing about her. He has been allowed his rampage because he has money. Connections. Supergirl has allowed him to keep killing. To try to kill those who matter to this husk.” She narrows her eyes, a name stuck on her tongue. Her voice is unsteady. “He is a very bad man.”

“Then you know what You must do.”

Sam doesn’t recognize him. This place. She straightens, looks around wildly. Reign pushes her down. Her throat is tight, a bad acidic taste having lodged in her throat.

Zor-El looks at her, disappointed. “Supergirl’s absence has given You freedom. Make use of that time to get stronger.”

“She is as guilty as he is.” She thinks of Kara Danvers, the memory is like a high pitched hum, drilling into her skull. Her fingers curl around her ear. “They think her a hero. A goddess.”

“She is.”

“I did not imagine you would fall prey to such fallacies.”

“You were not made to question. You are a weapon. A means to an end.”

Her fingers burrow into the ground. A means to an end. She combs through the experiences of Samantha Arias. A vault of tedium. She looks up at Zor-El. Her creator. Is _he_ a god?

X

The sigil is scorched onto Edge Global. Glass is shattered, steel and concrete annihilated. The threat is clear. Reporters camp out in front of the building, breathlessly discussing the brand, where it might have come from. Several hashtags trend on twitter: #skullkiller, #nationalcityvigilante, #roguekryptonian. FoxNews lavishes praise onto the killer. _This isn’t the kind of sentiment you hear from me often but shouldn’t we be thanking this guy? He’s going after thugs, after drug traffickers, these scumbags who make you think twice before you go walk out in the night. Supergirl wasn’t doing that. These rapists and killers shouldn’t be out there walking around like they own our streets. And they wouldn’t be if someone started taking out the trash. I, for one, am all for them._

Even Rachel Maddow throws a piece up. Twenty-three minutes after providing some history about the Alien Amnesty Act, Superman and Supergirl she turns to Worldkiller. _So who’s this new Kryptonian who’s out there making a scene? To be clear, no one’s said he or she is Kryptonian but— uh— it’s not the wildest theory, is it? I’ve seen some of the pictures that were taken at the crime scenes and they are not pretty. They are— in fact— incredibly disturbing. Far too graphic to show on television. I know there are some people out there who are thrilled about this. Stomping out crime! Literally, it would appear. I mean— is that so bad? Well. Maybe. I mean, who is this person? Are we all really okay with someone, who is this powerful being the one to decide who’s bad, who’s good? Are we, as a nation, going to decide— you know, all that stuff about law and order, the criminal justice system— it doesn’t matter? We’re all going to devolve into a nation of vigilantes? What if— just hear me out— what if this person decided, ‘you know what, I don’t like Supergirl. I don’t like the way she’s been doing things.’ What if this person decides—_

Supergirl squelches the voices. Too much sound. She scans the building. Edge is not there. She saw his news segment, bragging to reporters about his lead lined room. It seems a foolish revelation if he’s as afraid as he says he is. Maybe he was trying to goad her. He doesn’t know she could just walk up to him. He’s afraid of the cape. He should be afraid of her when she isn’t in one.

She tries to disassociate from the darkness. This is what happens when she allows herself to feel anything. Lena is safe. It’s fine. She didn’t lose her. This time. How often is she going to let him get away with it? Worldkiller is out there. If Worldkiller targets Edge— as it appears she has by stamping his building— maybe she should let her take care of him. It would feed into his demented logic. Dog-eat-dog. He would reap what he sows. She doesn’t have to kill him. Maybe she just shouldn’t save him. There are so many she hasn’t been able to save. Astra, Mon-El, countless innocents. Why should Edge live, when they died? Lena says she doesn't want her help.

Maybe this is the coward’s way, and she just wants to stay on her high horse. Maybe she wants Lena to stay on her high horse. But there is no high horse. There’s right and wrong. There’s grey. Supergirl should care about everyone. But Supergirl doesn’t care about him.

X

Lena’s desk is gone. The office has been swept clean. Kara enters, food in hand, sushi from Japan, because why not? She shouldn’t have left National City. Maybe she was looking for an excuse, in case Worldkiller happened to get Edge. There’s been no sign of it yet. She’s not a murderer. How can she be when no one’s been murdered? She can’t be everywhere at once.

Lena sits, heels off to the side, legs up on the couch, typing away on her laptop. Kara tries to shake the earlier conversation as Supergirl from her mind. She doesn’t like when Supergirl and Lena disagree. It feels more consequential than any disagreement Kara could have with Lena. She’s so stubborn sometimes.

Lena spots her and Kara smiles, raises the bag of food. Lena sets the laptop aside and stands. “I’m beginning to sound like a broken record, but you’re a sight for sore eyes,” she goes to her. Kara wants to hug her. She thinks Lena wants to hug her, too, but there’s trepidation in her eyes. “As you can see I’ve done a little redecorating.”

“Your desk is gone.” A fact, not a lie. Not ‘what happened to your desk’? “Out with the old, in with the new?”

“I haven’t decided what ‘new’ is yet, _but_ you will have to do.”

“I think I’m closer to ‘old’.” She’s much older than Lena. At least twenty years. She touches a hand to her brown skirt, the pink sweater that’s a little too long, the turquoise belt looped around her waist.

“I prefer ‘vintage’. Have a seat.”

She does. Lena pours water, gushes over the beautiful arrangement of sushi. “This looks like it was flown here straight from Japan.” Kara’s stomach sinks. Lena has a bite. “It even _tastes_ that way.”

This was a terrible idea. She smiles nervously. “It’s no better than what they have at Trader Joe’s.”

Lena chuckles. “You’re a terrible liar. I know you probably don’t want to tell me where you got this because sushi like this costs a _fortune,” and you’re unemployed,_ she doesn't say, “but, next time? Let me treat you?”

“I’d be happy to.”

Lena’s changed clothes since Supergirl saw her. Gone is the dress of before. She’s kept the skirt but changed into a grey sweater that hangs to her shoulders. Kara sees the dark coloring there, like purple grapes. Bruises. Her chest goes tight, eyes stinging. The day of the press conference when she was nearly shot she had those bruises, too, on her back. Kara hadn’t touched her then. Or did she, without knowing? “You okay?” Lena asks.

“Yes.” She picks up a piece of a piece of inari, bites into the delicate wrapping, sweetness hitting her tongue. “Are _you_ feeling okay? It’s late and you’re working. I guess that’s not new.” Lena smiles. Kara doesn’t know how to continue without lying. “There’s… I’m sorry— I don’t mean to stare but you have…” Kara gestures at her own shoulder.

Lena looks, shrugs. “A small price to pay for the Supergirl express. Edge tried to kill me again, surprise, and Supergirl saved my life.” Kara doesn’t blink at how readily Lena confides at who she suspects attempted to kill her. Is it relief she feels…? Anxiety? “My life seems to have been reduced to a series of vignettes where I’m imperiled only to have the Girl of Steel come to my rescue. I’ve never thought of myself as a damsel in distress.”

“You aren’t. Although, you have been exposed to distressing situations. Everyone needs a little help sometimes.” It occurs to her that she shouldn’t be so cavalier. “I’m so sorry— wait, let’s back up a minute, Edge did what?” Now she’s lying. Poorly. If she ever tells Lena, will she think of this moment? Will she start logging her every lie? Warm memories replaced by bitterness and resentment.

Lena buys the lie, or pretends to, explains and leaves out most of the details, specifically the ones involving Supergirl. Maybe she wants to minimize that relationship. Kara worries that Lena knows and hates repeating herself. That she wants to spare them both the embarrassment. Her stomach clenches. Lena continues. “And now that Kryptonian has branded his building. It may be that he’s not long for this world,” she says blandly. “You know, when I made that joke to Sam, I didn’t actually expect that the Kryptonian would target him. He must be petrified.”

“Do you think he really thinks it’s Supergirl?”

She scoffs. “I doubt Edge is ever sincere about anything. He always has a game.”

Kara has a drink of water, eases her fingers over her chopsticks. Edge isn’t the only one who thinks ahead. Lena thinks at least five steps ahead. Is she working with Lord? Because of that Worldkiller? “Would you be relieved if … whoever that person is killed him?”

“I wouldn’t dance a jig on his grave or anything. Or cry. I don’t cry.” Kara thinks it’s meant to be a joke, but Lena’s eyes are flat as she says it. The vacancy recedes. Lena looks at her a while. “Don’t ask me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I would be relieved if he were gone. For all my contempt about that moral high horse… I’d be glad if it were someone else who got rid of him. Morgan Edge isn’t subject to the same rules you and I are. The laws don’t apply to him. I don’t want to go down that path. I don’t want to risk myself. I’m not moral; I’m just selfish.” She smiles wryly. “But I don’t want to die. A cat only has nine lives. Those awful movies, Final Destination, or whatever? Sometimes it feels like my life is a little like that. If he doesn’t get me today, maybe he’ll get me tomorrow. Or the day after.”

“But Supergirl—”

“It’s not up to her to save me,” Lena says, words like a knife. Kara stills. “It’s not her responsibility. I won’t put that kind of weight on her. It’s not fair. She can’t be everywhere at once. She can’t. She is not a god.”

Kara considers, feeling heavy. Maggie said the same thing, too, long ago. It shouldn’t scare her. “I understand. I should really shut up about her.” Lena traces the rim of her glass, shakes her head. “But why didn’t you want me to ask? About how you’d feel if he died?”

“Maybe I’m not as transparent as I feel when you’re near,” Lena says. Kara worries her lower lip. “Sometimes it seems like… you can see right through me.” Kara flushes, thumb absently pulling at her belt. “And other times I think you don’t see me at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to stay in your good graces.”

Kara smiles, puzzled, afraid. “My good graces? I’m not scary. My clothes don’t match.” She thinks of her suit and flushes more. “Or maybe that is scary.”

“It’s vain, but… I _want_ you to think I’m a good person. I _know_ you think I’m a good person. But sometimes I think you give me more credit than I deserve.”

“You’ve never given me reason to doubt you.” Lena frowns, eyes foggy. Is it not true? Kara tries to sift through her memories, find anything that would make Lena doubt her. “I’m sorry if I’ve… if I’ve ever made you feel like I can’t be trusted to care for you through thick and thin. Edge _is_ scary. I don’t want you to live that way. Afraid. Not that I think you’re afraid—”

“I am afraid,” she smiles, helplessly. “I _am_ afraid. I wish I could say I wasn’t. But... I can’t pretend. Not around you.”

Kara reaches out, fingers unfurling, cupping her face. Lena’s eyes flick to her. If she sits here a moment, focuses, lets the warmth of her skin— Kara lets her go. She can’t do that. She suspects what Lena feels for her. She knows what she feels for Lena. She doesn’t want to make empty promises. She can’t have what she wants. She mutters an apology. Lena mutters there’s no need for one. Sometimes this is what they’re reduced to. Apology circles without resolution. She takes a breath. “Sometimes I’m afraid, too.” She says. She thinks of their argument earlier, if it could be called that, and wonders how much of that hostility was born of her fears.

“Then we’re both scaredy cats,” Lena plucks up a piece of sushi with her chopsticks, extends it to her. Kara looks at it, to her, blushes. She leans forward and eats it, chewing measuredly. Lena looks satisfied. “How is it?”

It practically melts on her tongue. “If that’s what Japanese sushi tastes like, sign me up.”

Lena smiles, eyes clouded in thought. “Hey, how was your day? I’m glad you answered my call, but I hope you don’t think I brought you here just so we could talk about me.”

Kara shakes her head, smiles fondly. “I don’t mind. I’m not interesting. So talking about me feels…” she thinks, “a little sad sometimes. I don’t keep track of how much you get to talk or I get to talk. We don’t have to talk at all. Being near you is enough.” She thinks to apologize, add that she hopes it doesn’t sound weird, make an excuse for that vulnerability. Make a joke out of it. She can’t. Even if she just reminded herself to not make empty promises.

“The feeling’s mutual.”

They eat for another while, edging closer to one another than before. “I had a job interview today.” Lena’s eyebrows shoot up and Kara can see her, eager to finish her bite of sushi to ask. “Don’t get excited; it didn’t work out.”

“What was it?”

Kara laughs, embarrassed. “It was… a position to help edit a lawnmower magazine. You know, the descriptions of the products?”

“I didn’t know you had such a passion for lawn-mowing,” she says. “Shall I picture you in overalls and a John Deere hat?”

Kara smiles, touches her glasses. “If they’re mismatched, maybe.”

“Well, what's wrong with that?”

“Nothing, I guess. It would be a job. Something I could do.”

“But…?”

“I don't think it was a good fit.” It’s something she’d be fired from quickly. Maybe she should find a way to work at home, but that seems a waste, to not be out amongst the people. Maybe she’s making excuses. She would have taken the job if it had been offered. It hadn’t mattered in the moment. Lena pressed the button on the watch. There isn’t anything she wouldn’t have left behind. “Sometimes… I don't think anything is a good fit. I keep searching and…” she lifts her hands. “But I think what matters… really matters, is…” she hears a buzzing in her ear. Somewhere far. A jackhammer maybe. Patches of words. _We … move this fu…g statue..!_ She tries to pull away from the noise.

“….matters is…?”

Kara blinks at Lena. “I’m sorry, wh—”

X

The bulldozers meep, their yellow lights spinning circles in the dark. Morgan Edge is sweaty and dazed. He is an inconsequential man with consequential acts. The Waterfront has been torn apart, heavy machinery dotting the area.

Reign lands like a meteor. A bulldozer flips into the water. Edge turns from the Supergirl statue, looks Her over. His lips thin. His heartbeat accelerates. There is fear in his eyes. He knows Death has come for him.

“Who the hell are you?”

X

Edge’s voice, irritated and afraid. Kara's palms go sweaty. A physiological response. Nothing more. _I am justice._ That voice is unrecognizable. A woman's voice. Metal screams. Men shout.

“Kara, are you— Kara, you're pale—”

“I… sorry I just remembered…” she stands in a fog.

“Just remembered what…?”

That she's Supergirl.

X

 

“Justice?” Even terrified he laughs at the word. The construction workers have left their machines and hang in the background. Their hearts race like rabbits. She ignores them. This creature before Her is one of the more repugnant lot that She has encountered. “Look, we can work something out.”

She smiles coldly. “What do you propose?”

He comes alive again, sighting an escape. “I’m a businessman. Let’s make a deal. There’s a big population in National City, dirtying up the streets, bringing crime with them. I’m trying to make this city great. You help me out, I put it out there that Supergirl is the one causing all the trouble. She’s done it before. It won’t be hard to make them believe it again. National City doesn’t need two Kryptonians. I like what you do. She’s been a thorn in my side.” He approaches cautiously. “What do you say?”

Her smile must frighten him. He turns and runs. He twists his ankle and keeps running, his jacket flapping behind him as he sprints. She can smell his sweat. It makes Her heady. He screams for Supergirl.

And she comes to him, landing gracelessly, the concrete beneath her cracking. She straightens, but it only looks as if she were trying to imitate her previous chest puffery.

Supergirl’s heart beats like a caged bird’s. She isn’t as tall as Reign imagined. Edge stops his escape. He thinks he is safe. He has bought only seconds. “You’re Worldkiller,” Supergirl says.

Supergirl’s eyes dart over her. Perhaps seeking weaknesses. There are none. Faulty emotion and compassion has not infected Her. She will not be deterred. “You are the reason this city is rotting. You have to take it out at the root. You are incapable.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

Another speech. Supergirl is fond of speeches. “Justice must always be executed.”

“What you’ve been doing isn’t justice. Murder isn’t justice.” Her voice shakes. “You don’t get to decide.”

“Who does? You?”

She thins her lips. “Are you working for someone? Someone has manipulated you. You’re Kryptonian. This is not the Kryptonian way.”

“What would you know of the Kryptonian way, Kara Zor-El?” Those words deflate her. Supergirl looks around, Edge who had been cowering behind her, lifts his head, interested. “We are not like Kal, birthed from a woman like these humans. We were born in tubes like the rest of our kind. We were perfected. We are _better_.”

The words land. “Where did you come from?”

“Get out of my way, Supergirl.”

“No. You can’t kill him. I won’t let you.”

Reign feels a bubble of irritation. “I don’t need your permission.” She dashes to her. Supergirl has gotten sloppy. She is no longer accustomed to confronting her own kind. She realizes, but too late. Reign takes hold of her arm and her cape, turns on Her heel, spins and hurls her. Supergirl crashes through two buildings, each one collapsing in heaps of cement and smoke as she rockets through them.

Distant shrieks of terror rise and fall still like a symphony. Construction workers trip over themselves, trying to get away. Reign turns back to Edge. “No. No, please—”

Her hand clamps over his face, squashing his scream. She yanks him into the night sky.

X

Everything is dark. She’s buried under rubble. Her eyes open. Her x-ray vision reveals broken pipes and beams. Rao. She did this. She wasn’t fast enough. Where’s Edge? Screams.

She bursts from the building and into the night, caked in dirt and cement. There are people buried, trapped in the buildings she crashed through. She’s literally a walking disaster. She looks at the two downed buildings, flattened as if they were paper. She sees the figures trapped beneath.

She touches her earpiece. “Alex, I need you to get down here. I need Winn to call— every emergency department.”

_We’ve pinged your location. What’s going on?_

“Worldkiller showed up. She’s after Edge but— just get everyone here as soon as you can. People are hurt.”

_Are **you** hurt?_

“I’m fine. Just hurry.”

She spends minutes trying to clear the rubble. It takes too long. Shifting everything could result in crushing everyone that’s left alive. Getting to one person without setting off something else that will kill another will be tricky. She hears sobbing. Is Worldkiller near? She scans the area but there’s no sight of the woman. She can’t hear Edge. His heartbeat earlier was frantic. These are deafening but growing slow. She sees a woman whose leg has been snapped off and feels sick to her stomach. Minutes later she’s able to remove enough of the building to pull her out. “Hey, I’ve got you, it’s going to be—…” the woman touches her face and dies moments later.

Police sirens, ambulance lights wash color onto the night. The woman was in her forties, wearing a soft blue cardigan. Supergirl exhales, lays her down carefully and gets to work on the others who are trapped. Fifteen in total, mostly cleaning crew. She’s able to save four, two will likely die at the hospital, the others are dead. She puts her hands over her knees and shakes, eyes burning. Her body is a bomb, ready to destroy anything it touches. She thinks of Lena's broken desk, the bruises on her shoulders. She thinks of Mon-El crumbling in her fingertips.

DEO vehicles start to pull in. Alex steps out of a black humvee, looks at the spread of ambulances and police cars, eyes lingering over those vehicles before she goes to Supergirl. “Did Worldkiller do this?”

“No. Yes. No.” Alex waits. “She threw me. _I_ did this.”

Alex stares at her face. “How many casualties?” Supergirl tells her. Alex looks around, assault rifle to her side. “Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know. I lost her.”

“How?”

Supergirl gestures at the buildings. “I screwed up.”

“You should have called us the second you spotted her.”

Supergirl swallows stiffly. “Yeah.”

“What’d she want with Edge?”

“I don’t know,” she’s frustrated. “But I have to stop her. She can’t do this. She can’t do whatever the hell she wants!” She isn’t sure why she’s on the verge of tears. It’s Morgan Edge. “I have to find him. I have to save him.”

Alex’s lips thin. “All right.” There’s a long silence. “You know you may not find him, right? Edge is a bastard and this Wordkiller doesn't have a high tolerance for that. If she has him he's probably dead.”

Supergirl shakes her head. “No. I’ll do it. I’ll find him. I’ll—” she stops. The smell of the ocean and blood wafts to her. The stench of urine and feces. She flies up.

“Supergirl?”

Supergirl doesn't wait. She flies to the Waterfront, two blocks over. Alex follows on foot. Supergirl isn't moving very fast. Alex keeps up. The ground before the Girl of Steel statue had been torn open, chains wrapped around the statue in Edge’s attempts, Supergirl assumes, to topple it. The statue stands. Supergirl boldly flying, smile on that steel face, fingers pointed to guide her.

A wave of dizziness hits her. Morgan Edge is impaled on the statue’s arm, the steel hand punched through his chest. Blood and tissue cling to the metal. Below is a puddle of blood and urine. His skull is partly crushed in, his nose flattened as if he'd suffocated. He’s been deformed, his teeth cracked and jagged. His pants are soaked through. He must have been terrified. She didn't save him. She looks at the statue’s face, splashed with blood, the chest marked clearly: _False God._

She lets out a shaky breath, clamps a hand over her mouth, squeezes her eyes shut.

Alex looks up at her from below.

X

Sam returns to L-Corp. Traffic was a nightmare, the police setting up too many blockades for whatever the latest crisis is. She doesn't want to know. She can't change any of it and she'd rather not fall into another well of depression at her helplessness in the face of mounting terror in National City.

Her head has been in a fog for weeks now. Tonight is no exception. She parks and enters L-Corp. It smells like blood here. Some other awful smell. She cautiously lifts her hands to her face and the smell intensifies. A hallucination. It makes her paranoid. The guard clasps his hands and bows his head to her. The janitors down the hall do the same, their smiles wide. She rubs her eyes and when she looks again things are normal. The guard is reading the newspaper, the janitor is _not_ bopping along to a tube on his music player. He cleans dully.

Sam takes the elevator to her floor. The light is on in Lena's office. Her head hurts. Something happened with Lena today. **_She was poisoned._** Yes. She was poisoned. Is she still alive? Worry seems hazy and intangible.

There's a spread of sushi on the coffee table by the desk. Lena looks up at her, surprised. “You're okay.” Sam says. “I was so scared.”

“You didn't really think I’m going to let poison take me out, do you?”

Sam takes a seat next to her. “Hey, I haven’t lived in National City as long as you have. I can’t take all your assassination attempts for granted just yet.” Lena smiles wryly. “I’m really glad you’re okay.” Her words are stilted, as if she were trying to recall them from some forgotten script.

“I appreciate it.” Lena looks at her quizzically. “But I have to ask… where have you been? I asked around and no one had seen you since this afternoon.”

Since this— “ ** _I was working. Tending to some things outside L-Corp.”_**

“That's important, I thought…” she smiles. “Well, never mind. We're both here.” Sam nods. “I wanted to ask you about something.”

“I’m all ears.” She looks at the food that remains, wrinkles her nose, thinking of Supergirl.

“I was looking through our surveillance footage. I thought if someone had poisoned me, the best way to catch the culprit would be to look through today's feed.”

“Makes sense,” she says with an approving nod.

“But the footage is gone. It was deleted. And whoever did it did a good job of covering their tracks.”

“Maybe it was a glitch in the system.”

“Not on my system.”

“Can’t you recover what was deleted? That doesn’t seem like it’s beyond your capabilities.” She hears a heartbeat thrumming in her ears. It could be her own. It could be Lena’s. It’s likely a hallucination. Why is she okay with hallucinations? She should be more worried.

Moments pass. “Did the police speak to you?” Lena asks. Sam looks at her, vision growing narrower. Lena’s voice is far away. It’s like listening to her through a wind tunnel. “Go through my things? Did Lord?”

Sam shakes her head even though she doesn’t remember. “Have you talked to the police?” Getting the words out takes considerable effort. They sound slurred to her ears but Lena doesn’t react that way. _Have you had tests? Been checked out? Being poisoned is serious._ It’s trapped inside of her. “They should know what he did to you.”

“What who did to me?” Lena takes a moment, sets the laptop aside. “Are you all right?” She stands, gets her a glass of water. “I apologize for the mess. Kara was here earlier. Left as suddenly as she came.” Sam twitches. Lena sets the water in front of her. “I hope she’s okay. It’s not always easy to tell with her.”

“ _She matters to you_.”

“Yes. Very much.”

Sam adjusts the watch on her wrist, sees the watch on Lena’s wrist. Considers smashing it. Buries the thought. Where did it come from? “I’m surprised you haven’t offered her a job.”

“Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind. Kara would never accept. And I’d never want her to feel as if she were in my debt.”

Sam’s mind veers to the waterfront. A glossy memory, too shiny to see, unable to be manipulated. She thinks of the Supergirl statue and construction equipment. “Better in your debt than homeless.”

“It won’t come to that. Kara’s proud, but she knows how to ask for help when she needs it. She’s resourceful, smart, tenacious when it’s called for. I have complete faith in her. She’ll land on her feet.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re giving her any other option.”

“I’ll always bet on her.” She smiles, sits again.

“Why do you keep meeting with Maxwell Lord?” The smile fades. “I wish I could say it’s not my business, but it is. He’s aligned himself with Morgan Edge and we know Edge was soaking up L-Corp’s stock. He wanted to run you out of your own company and at the rate he was going, he was going to.” Lena listens wordlessly. “I’m the CFO. This _is_ my business. Maybe I’m out of line, but I’m just trying to watch out for you, Lena.”

“Everyone’s suddenly so interested in watching out for me.”

“Are you trying to get Lord on our side? He’s already taken credit for the lead poisoning antidote. That was precious publicity to give away. Have you seen the news reports on him? **_He’s no better than Edge_**.”

Lena laughs caustically. “Well. I disagree. I hear what you’re saying about the publicity, I know that, but there wasn’t any other way. The public needed someone they could trust. Unfortunately that person wasn’t me. It never is. I’m in this to do good, not for my ego. L-Corp will survive.”

“Is there a new project you’re working on that I need to be aware of?”

“Unclear.” She starts to gather the plates from the coffee table, clears them away, perhaps abandoning any notion of Kara returning. She pours a glass of water for herself. “He needs my help. Desperately. I’m afraid the situation is becoming dire.”

“You planning on letting me in on what this project is?”

“I can’t. I’m sorry. Don’t ask.”

Sam sighs. “Lena—”

“It’s not an L-Corp project. Or a Lord Technologies project. It’s help for a friend. Nothing more.”

“So Lord is a friend now.” Sam says. Lena doesn’t respond. “You’ve committed to his ask.”

“Yes, I have.” Though she doesn’t seem very happy about it.

X

Maggie swiftly hides her surprise. Kara waits at the bottom steps outside the NCPD station, remembering not so long ago when she dropped the police officer here. That girl ran away. Kara wonders what happened to her. Supergirl hasn’t kept track of the officer. Maybe it’s pointless to make threats she can’t follow through on.

Maggie reaches her at the bottom of the steps, still drowning in the oversized jacket. It must be new. Kara tore the other one at the museum. “Hey,” Maggie says, her voice a warm, low murmur.

She’s just finished doing a press conference. The details were vague, names not provided, everything downplayed, but the construction workers have started to tell those they know. NCPD arrived at the Waterfront not long after Supergirl did. They took their pictures, the flash like a slap of lightning on Edge’s face. They looked from Edge, impaled on her statue, to her. Later, the police instructed her to help remove Edge’s body from where it had been left. Her fingers haven’t stopped shaking. She keeps them in her jacket pockets. “Hey, Maggie.” She wishes this was easier. Any of this was easier. She doesn’t know why she’s here with her, instead of with Lena or Alex. She takes her hands out of her jacket pockets, worried she’ll rip it. Her hands tangle. She can’t stop smiling. “I know we didn’t set anything up.”

“That’s okay.”

It’s nearly midnight. Lena has called and texted but Kara hasn’t gotten back to her. She feels sick. “I don’t want to get in the way of your night.”

She shakes her head. “I wasn’t ready to go home anyway.” She pulls her NCPD jacket off, draping it over her arm. “I was going to go for a drive.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.” She walks to her car and Kara follows. “Want to come with?” She opens the backseat, sets her jacket down.

Her car is always neat. “Can I roll my window down?”

A moment. A nod. “Yeah.”

They get in. Kara rolls her window down. Maggie does too. She’s a good sport, Kara thinks. They drive. Kara can only feel a slight impression of the wind, a hint of coolness. The streets are emptier than usual. It might be the holidays. It might be Worldkiller. They drive in silence, Maggie changing the NPR station to something drifting. Music that doesn’t sound like music from here. Kara relaxes against the seat. Eventually they arrive at their destination: a beach, quiet and removed. She gets out. Eventually Kara does, too.

She sees better in the dark than Maggie does. She wonders how Maggie sees. How Lena sees. Waves lap at the sand, rushing in and retreating. Kara pulls her glasses off, rubs her eyes and follows Maggie to the water. There’s no one else here. Little crab creatures scurry. If she looks to the water she can see the animals that dwell, swimming. She thinks of aquariums with Lena. She doesn’t know why she came to see Maggie. She doesn’t know how to put her thoughts together. She’s afraid to open a line of communication. She has to say something. It’s not like with Lena, where long silences can feel comforting. Maggie doesn’t owe her that kind of patience. They don’t communicate the same way. “Do you come here a lot?”

“Only on hard days. It’s nice to get away from the city,” she smiles at her.

Kara goes closer. “The water’s nice.” A beat. “We didn’t have this on Krypton. Or… seagulls.” Another silence follows but she doesn’t feel uneasy. The water comes in again, ushering in another tide of sadness. Kara bites her lower lip and slips her glasses back on. “I used to embarrass Alex a lot when I got here. You know, _Here._ I… couldn’t stop staring at everything. It was so new. I thought if I could take those new things and fill myself up with them… it could bury,” she sighs shakily, “all those other things I’d lost and loved. I was so stupid.” Maggie waits. “Sometimes it feels like I’m doing that again. Trying to fill an absence with something else. I think that if I do more good and hold to my convictions, it will make up for those things I’ve lost. The people I’ve failed. But it can’t. I can’t. I keep losing. I keep failing. I keep letting people die. Most people don’t have the power to stop those kinds of things but I do. And I’m not getting it right.” Her voice hitches. She stops speaking. “Innocent people died tonight because I tried to save Morgan Edge. And in the end I couldn’t even save him.” Her breath comes out more unsteady. “And I don’t know if… it’s because that Worldkiller was stronger— or faster— or if… deep down, some part of me didn’t want to save him. Didn’t want to try as hard as I should have for him. He hated me. Mocked me. Tried to turn everyone against me. But in the end he chose me to defend him and I didn’t. And the worst thing is— Rao, there are so many ‘worst’ things— but the worst part is that I feel… nothing. No satisfaction. No comfort. I don’t feel safer, I don’t feel better. If this … woman is out there— no one is safe. What if she decides to go after Lena for— I don’t know.” Maggie still says nothing, though Kara knows she’s listening. “I would have done more good by not going out tonight. I could have let the murderer who’s tried to kill my best friend on multiple occasions die. I told myself if Worldkiller went after him, I would let her. I could have not interfered, and good, innocent people would still be alive.” If any video comes out, Lena will see Supergirl rushing to save Morgan Edge. At approximately the time she left her behind at L-Corp. Even in the wide open, she feels trapped. Will Lena remember their conversation the night she stayed at Kara’s apartment, grieving her possible role in the lead poisoning? Will Lena realize that Supergirl too has to turn against those she loves for the greater good? “I hurt National City tonight.”

“You’re wrong.” Maggie, who stooped to thread her fingers through the water, stands. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. But you stood up for National City tonight. You’ve always stood up for anyone who needs you. It just so happened that Morgan Edge needed you. And you showed up because it was the right thing to do. You risked yourself for him. He was a scumbag. Doesn’t matter. You had to show up and you did. Sometimes we get it wrong. I’ve gotten it wrong. Alex has gotten it wrong. People die and it sucks. It haunts us but we can’t give up. We have to keep pushing.”

“But if I hadn’t shown up she couldn’t have grabbed me. I wouldn’t have decimated those buildings. Those people wouldn’t have died.”

“If you hadn’t shown up she’d think this city was hers. That there was no one here willing to fight for it and its people. Kara, do you think she’s going to stop at National City? She surprised you. Now you have some idea of what she’s capable of. I know you’re hurting. You’re thinking of those who died. It’s awful that they died. But you save more lives than that every single day. It’s that Worldkiller who threw you through those buildings. You didn’t kill Edge. You didn’t kill those people. _She_ did. Not you. You’re going to confront her again. You’ll be more prepared next time.”

Kara wonders if Maggie forgot their earlier conversation. Before they knew who Worldkiller was, when they found that body pounded to paste in that alleyway, Maggie had warned her. _Did it occur to you that maybe you **won’t** be able to stop them? You’re not a god._ Supergirl had been arrogant. She said she could handle it, but she was wrong. “Everything feels like it’s getting away from me.”

Maggie smiles faintly. “You’re pretty fast.”

Kara looks at her a while. She’s made her world small and neglected so many of the things in it. She’s reduced it to Lena, where she feels safe, and Supergirl who is less and less so feeling that way. Maggie has been patient despite how Supergirl has been rude and rebuffed her. Maybe it has nothing to do with Alex. Kara suspects Maggie might just be nice. “Thank you for…” she sighs, “letting me go on.”

“Sometimes we all need to ‘go on’. You don’t have to thank me.”

“I want to. I’d like to be friends, if that’s okay.” It probably sounds awkward. It definitely sounds awkward. “I know I haven’t been… fun to be around. Even before Mon-El died. I was jealous of you and Alex. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Her tone is dismissive and she seems to realize. “Really,” she says more sincerely.

“I’m sorry I didn’t go to Thanksgiving. Lena said you made a lot of pie.”

Maggie laughs. “Yeah. Not sure how good it turned out.”

“Lena said it was good.”

“Lena’s nice.”

Kara breathes, happy to hear her say those words. She wishes Lena trusted NCPD more. Or Maggie, at least. She isn’t sure if she’s naive or Lena is cynical. “That picture of everyone together was sweet.”

“We have you to thank for the turkey.”

Kara smiles. Maggie figured it out. She waits a moment. “Can I ask you something personal?”

Maggie lifts her eyebrows, smiles quizzically. “Shoot.”

“Are you and Sam… um. Involved?” Kara asks. Maggie lifts one eyebrow gently. “I hope… I’m sorry— when we all met at Lena’s before Thanksgiving… I can’t always control my… abilities. I heard her ask you out.”

“Okay.” A beat. “But why are you asking?”

She doesn’t have a good answer. “It’s not about Alex. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought lately and I haven’t decided whether knowing something and pretending not to know is better or not. What people prefer. Sometimes I worry Lena knows about me. I know you figured me out and Alex confirmed with you. Without speaking to me. It really hurt my feelings. I know that’s…silly.”

Maggie takes a breath, rubs her lips. “I don’t think it is. You’re right. It’s private. It’s yours. And you should be the one to decide who knows. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything to Alex. Would you have preferred I talked to you first?”

Kara touches her glasses, clears her throat, smiles nervously. She tries to imagine what she’d prefer from Lena. Most of all, she’d prefer she didn’t know. “I’m not sure. I can’t ever land on feeling just one thing about it.”

“At the time, not understanding why Alex was responding to certain things the way she was, was interfering with our relationship. I know that doesn’t make anything feel better. Maybe now that Alex and I aren’t together anymore that… revelation may feel wasted for you. But Kara, I haven’t told anyone. I wouldn’t.”

“I know. I trust you, Maggie.” She looks at the water. “Are you and Sam…” she shakes her head. “Forget it. I’m assuming. And it’s none of my business.”

Maggie straightens, sticks her hands in her pockets. “Well. In the spirit of friendship…” she smiles ruefully, maybe thinking that all things considered, they’ve had conversations tougher than many friendships weather. “Sam and I are… taking things slow. Yes. I like her.” Her voice is clipped, nervous. She shrugs. “Maybe she likes me.”

“That’s… I mean. That’s good. She’s great. You are. You don’t have to… Just because I’m Alex’s sister doesn’t mean—” Her foot is in her mouth. “It’s okay. Not that you need my permission for it to be okay. I meant—”

“Relax; I get it.” She smiles.

Oh, good. “ _Are_ you dating?”

“Hm. Not sure. We said we’d try this out, but she’s busy. I’m busy. I missed her tonight, actually. Work.”

“Oh.” A beat. “I had to leave Lena.” A moment. “Not that I’m— I’m not. With her. Or anyone.” Maggie nods. “What’s it like? To date.” Maggie looks at her, and Kara feels her face grow hot. It’s a stupid question. She shouldn’t have asked. Maggie must think she’s a little girl.

Maggie shrugs, smiles. “It’s different for everyone.”

She calms a little, grateful, at least, that Alex may not have gone into details of her love life, or lack there-of, with Maggie. “I never have. I talked a little with Lena about it. She said the same thing. That everyone’s different and does things at their own pace. That felt good to hear.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It made me feel… a little more normal. I know… reasonably that there’s nothing wrong with the way I am. There are a lot of people like me, who don’t date because… they don’t want to, or they haven’t had the opportunity or… they have their own reasons for it. But when you see it everywhere… and when people ask constantly. Sometimes it feels like I’m the only person in the universe to not know what it’s like.”

“You’re not.”

“I’ve kissed seven boys in my life.” She doesn’t say that three of them were James, Winn and Cat’s son, Adam. “I broke four of their noses.” She sees a hint of a smile on Maggie’s lips. “It’s not funny.”

“No. Not at all. Um. You’re three ahead of me.” Kara waits. Maggie goes on. “Girl I really liked in college. Took her back to my place, but it was dark. I go to turn the light on and the bulb bursts. I yank my head back, reflex, you know? Smash it into her face.” Kara brings her hands to her face, eyes wide. “So… not my best first date. We ended up at the ER.”

“Did she go out with you again?”

Maggie laughs. “No.”

“Neither did mine.” She smiles. It fades. She waits a while. “That Kryptonian said something tonight. Krypton isn’t like here. My cousin was born the way everyone on this planet is. Naturally. But it’s not like that on Krypton.” She doesn’t know how to go on right away. She hears the things people on this planet say. ‘Test tube babies’. They say it with derision, as if those children are less. Artificial. Not real.

Maybe too long passes. Maggie speaks. “Not like Krypton how?”

“Everything is… was… very sterile. We’re born clean. Not in our mother’s bodies, but… in chambers. We called them genesis chambers. We’re all… crafted to be… advanced. To have a purpose.” Her throat has locked up. Maggie doesn’t push. “At the time it was scandalous for my cousin to be born that way. If there was anything left of Krypton, they would still judge him. It’d been literally centuries since a natural birth like that. Kryptonians had found away to avoid defects, illness. It was population control, down to a science. Everyone looked down on his birth. It wasn’t cultured. Or Kryptonian. But what do Kryptonians know? They let our planet die.” Her parents were more responsible than others. “Anyway. Um. He fits in really well here. He has a great relationship that seems… completely out of reach for me. Every day I’m here… meeting that Worldkiller tonight… it reminded me that I’m different. That I’m not meant to have normal things.”

“I know it’s not the same, but I felt that way for a long time. Eventually it changed for me.”

“I appreciate that, but…” she can’t get frustrated. “I could have killed you at the museum. I have nightmares about that. Every day. I was afraid to …” she remembers that Lena asked Supergirl not to tell Maggie, “save someone today because my fingers were shaking. And after the fact I realized that I’d really bruised them. Holding people sometimes is like… squeezing an egg to your chest. That’s what it feels like. I can kill someone by being affectionate. I can’t measure my strength against this world. I don’t… have any real concept of it. A pencil, a person… unless I really focus… the weight makes no difference to me.”

“I can see why that’d be intimidating.”

“I was normal on Krypton. We had a red sun. We lived normal lives. Sometimes I wonder… what my life would be like if things had been different. I can’t think about it too long. It makes me… too sad. It’s strange, watching movies where people meet and fall in love. Movies where people can hold down a job and their passion shows because they can be there for it. I have to remember those movies aren’t made for me.”

“Well, the good news is that you haven’t broken any eggs yet. Right? You’ve been here all this time. It hasn’t happened.”

“I’ve broken four noses. And a foot.” And fried a hand. “I’m not safe.”

“Sometimes the most rewarding things don’t feel safe.” Maggie takes a deep breath. “Look, you’ve had to adapt since you got here, right? I’m not saying it’s easy. Maybe it won’t ever be. But this is just another thing to adapt to. It might be a little touch and go. It might not be exactly what you expect, or exactly how you want but… with the proper patience and care… it’s not impossible. It might be worth something.”

“I want to believe that.”

“TV and movies leave out the hard stuff. All the work that goes into building meaningful relationships. It’s a lot of work. Sometimes it’s worth it, other times it’s not. That’s for you to decide.”

It could be true. It took three years for her to have an actual conversation with Maggie that wasn’t all about work. If this were a movie, this is when Maggie would tell her to cast her worries aside, chase someone down at an airport, show up at their door with cards expressing her feelings, which honestly, sounds like the best bet for someone like her. But it’s not a movie, so Maggie doesn’t say any of that. “I don’t know how to come back.” Kara sits on the sand. Maggie joins her. “I didn’t want to be near anyone who knew me for a while. That’s why it was easier for me to go to you instead of Alex or Lena. I’ve pushed everyone away. Now that I know that, it should be better. It should be easier for me to let everyone in. To be open with them but…” she licks her lips. “I don’t know how.” Maggie trails sand through her fingers, burying them in the sand. “No matter what I do, it feels like I’m lying to everyone. It … doesn’t feel like I _can_ let people in.”

“What do you think is holding you back?”

“I don’t know how to be what people want.” It’s not the answer to the question Maggie asked. It is part of the problem.

“So be yourself.”

She smiles ruefully, picks up a handful of wet sand, tries to shape it. It falls apart in her hands. She lets it drop back to join the other muck. “Every day feels different.”

“What was Worldkiller like?”

Kara huffs, grateful for the change in conversation. Or maybe it only seems like a change. “Tall. She wore all black, and a mask. I’ve never seen a Kryptonian do that. It was…” she stretches her back. “Weird. Her voice was… changed somehow.”

“You think she’s hiding her identity?”

“If she’s on a mass killing spree… it would make sense. I just don’t know why she would show up now. Start all of this. She said I’m the same as Edge. That if I enabled him… I’m no different.”

“One, you didn’t enable him. Two, she’s full of shit.”

“Maybe she never would have come if I’d been more… diligent.”

“We’ve seen you be ‘diligent’ before. She wasn’t here then.”

Kara looks at her, away. “It’s been so long since I fought a Kryptonian. Daxamites are different. They leap. They’re strong, but not as strong. I wasn’t expecting her,” she shakes her head. “It’ll be different next time. Maybe she’ll come to her senses. I think… if I try. If I extend a hand… maybe I can reach her.” Maggie doesn’t look at her. Once again she wonders who's naive, who's cynical. “There aren’t many of us. I don’t want to have to kill every Kryptonian I come across.”

“I hear you.” She leans back, resting her elbows on the sand, looking up at the stars. “What if she doesn’t come to her senses?”

“Then…”


	11. Reign

A/N: Ah, I remember when I thought this story would be six chapters, top. Be warned: another very violent chapter.

* * *

  

She is drawn here.

Rain patters on the umbrella, Sam’s breath smoking in the grey air. There was sunshine for Luke’s funeral. Edge gets rain and cloudy skies. The crowds have left, though the media still lingers, reporting about the celebrities, politicians and philanthropists who came to the burial. Lord was present. She saw him leave earlier, a pair of sunglasses on his face. He didn’t seem distressed, but why should he? Morgan Edge was a monster.

She makes it to the grave. It’s obscenely large, chiseled from marble. An angel is draped over the stone, weeping. Sam’s eyes narrow. She imagines the remains of his bones inside, skull and jaw fractured, rib cage ripped open. She can see it clear as day. Grass crunches around her. She looks. No one. Further in the distance she sees her: Kara Danvers.

The hair on the back of her neck stands on end. What do they call that feeling? Someone walking on your grave? What is it with Kara Danvers and funerals? She wears a black peacoat and looks more somber than usual. Soon, she’s close.

“Sam. What are you doing here?”

“Same thing as you. Seeing if the bastard’s really dead.” Kara pales at the words. “I know you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but to be fair, I spoke ill of him when he was still alive.”

Kara’s sigh curls in the air.

“Look at all these flowers,” Sam prods a bouquet with her foot. He killed children and they’ll still waste their money on him. Sycophants.

“There must have been people who really cared about him.”

“More like they knew this place would be crawling with media and wanted their fifteen minutes.” Sam looks her over. “I know I sound like a terrible person but I’m just relieved Lena’s safe.”

Kara’s smile is pained. “Me too.”

“It’s been a while.” She hasn’t seen her since Thanksgiving Eve. Something tickles her brain.

“It has.” Kara keeps her hands in her pockets. There’s a nervous energy to her. “How have you been?”

“Busy. Christmas is coming up. Work that never ends,” she smiles. Kara returns it, rueful. “How about you? Anything exciting on the horizon?”

“I’ve been doing a little job hunting. It’s hard during the holidays. It’s mostly seasonal work. Everyone’s on vacation so it’s hard to interview for something full time. The part time jobs don’t really work for me.”

Sam can’t imagine picking and choosing. Following her heart and passion. She has to provide for Ruby. It doesn’t matter if it’s not a good fit. She has worked fast food, retail, housekeeping. She worked three jobs while she went to school. “It couldn’t hurt. Until something better comes along.” Kara exhales. Maybe she’s spoiled. But no, her parents died, didn’t they? Long ago. Who takes care of her? How does she get by? Kara’s sister dated Maggie. Has Kara’s relationship with her sister improved? She sees a faint image of a brunette, clad in black, an assault rifle in her arms. Doesn’t recognize her. She narrows her eyes on Kara thoughtfully. “I hope I haven’t crossed the line.”

“No, you’re right. I’m being too demanding.”

“You?” She smiles. “You have that sweet face. You don’t look like you could hurt a fly.” Nervous laughter. “So uh… do you have any holiday plans?”

“I was thinking of throwing a party at my place.” She sounds unsure. “You’d be welcome to come. You and Ruby and— Maggie will be there. If it happens. And Lena, of course.”

Of course. “We missed you last time. So did Ruby. Shoot me a text if you think it’ll happen?”

“I will.” Kara studies the grave for some time longer, her eyes sad, before that sadness vanishes. It comes and goes like the switch of a light. “Did you finish all your Christmas shopping? Does Ruby still get excited for Christmas?”

“Boy does she. What kid doesn’t love presents?” She reaches into her jacket pocket, pulls out the box. “This came in a few hours ago. I had it sent to L-Corp so she wouldn’t find it first.” She opens the box to reveal the necklace of the Supergirl sigil in gold. “Ruby’s crazy about Supergirl.”

Kara takes a breath. “Oh.”

“She’s going to go nuts. So now she has an _S_ of her own to wear.” Kara opens her mouth, shuts it. “She’s a good kid and she’s had a tough year. I’m working all the time. New school. Luke.” She frowns at the grave. “Bastard. So much for making his office lead proof, huh?”

Kara doesn’t say anything for a while. “I think it’s sad that he’s dead.”

“How can you say that? Isn’t Lena your best friend? He tried to kill her.”

“Then he should have gone to prison and accounted for his crimes. People make mistakes.”

“It wasn’t a mistake. He didn’t trip with a loaded gun. He sent someone to poison her. He knew what he was doing.”

“We don’t know that he did that. And I don’t agree that two wrongs make a right.”

That’s how these criminals keep doing whatever the hell they want. “Don’t tell Lena that,” Sam says. Kara frowns, her expression close to a scowl. Sam knows she shouldn’t piss off Lena’s best friend, can’t imagine a scenario where Lena takes her side over Kara’s. “You can’t say some part of you isn’t relieved that he’s gone.”

Kara doesn’t answer for a long time. She keeps her hands in her pockets, blonde hair pasting to her face. It’s still raining, raindrops bursting on Kara’s face and glasses, her coat. Sam’s fingers tighten around the handle of the umbrella. She looks at her hand and arm, trying to extend it to Kara, to shelter her. She tries to open her mouth to say ‘get under here’. But there’s nothing.

Kara doesn’t appear to notice the rain. “I think people take for granted how awful living can be.”

Sam studies Kara, can recall her face in the moonlight. She’s ~~weak~~ sweet. Reasonably, she knows she should care that Edge is dead. She should care for everyone. But she doesn’t care about him. He killed Luke. He tried to kill Lena. That Kryptonian terrorizing National City is a menace, but maybe they’re doing what Supergirl can’t. Ruby doesn’t know it yet. She hopes that she’ll never have to know it, but there are parasites in this world that don’t deserve to live. The thoughts clamp around her mind, forming barriers, some part of her pressing hard and finding resistance.

X

Coville’s eyes are sunken, cheeks gaunt. His previous stubble has grown into a beard. Alex and another DEO agent go into his cell, yank him to a standing, shackling his arms and feet. Coville smiles at Supergirl, seemingly unbothered, which is more than Supergirl can say.

“You can go,” Alex tells the other agent. He moves on his way.

Supergirl keeps her hands on her hips, looking at the floor for a moment before staring back at the indignity. “That’s not necessary.”

“It’s protocol.”

Supergirl wants to ask when Alex began caring about DEO protocol, but only follows as she leads him down a hallway. The light is artificial here, too dim, despite how well she can see. Coville is soon ushered into a room and chained to a metal table. Supergirl looks past the mirrored glass to see J’onn and Winn. Mon-El used to stand back there. He was so happy the day he got a DEO uniform. It was easy for him to forget he’d been kept caged for months. She doesn’t know how he was able to shed those resentments so easily. She should have asked him, instead of assuming he was merely empty-headed. She was arrogant. It still shames her.

A green light comes on. Tiny and invisible to the human eye, but Supergirl sees it. They’re recording. Alex pulls a chair back and sits across from Coville.

“Sorry about this,” Supergirl tells him. Alex glances at her, face blank, but Supergirl sees her irritation.

Coville smiles, as if having been touched by her light. “You’ve no need to apologize. I am humbled You have sought me.”

“Enough,” Alex says. “I know what you said to Supergirl about Worldkiller. We’ve tracked her all over the world. We’re still getting reports of the atrocities she’s committing. How do we stop her?”

Coville ignores Alex and looks at Supergirl. “Is this what You would ask of me?”

“I confronted her.”

His skin becomes taut again, his eyes filling with life. “Then—”

“No,” Alex says. “Worldkiller’s still out there.”

Coville’s brow furrows, looking to Supergirl as if he no longer recognizes her. “You failed.”

“She didn’t fail,” Alex says. “She just needs something more to go on. Something concrete, not prophecies.” Coville says nothing. “You said you would be her shepherd. Now’s your time to talk.”

Coville turns to Supergirl, his face sad. “Command me and I will obey.”

“How do I reach her?” Supergirl asks. He opens his mouth. “Not physically.”

“Yes, physically,” Alex says.

Now it’s Supergirl’s turn to ignore her. “I don’t want to hurt her. If she’s Kryptonian…” she goes closer to him, touches her hand to the metal table. “You once said that I was lost.” Alex looks at her. She feels J’onn and Winn’s gaze from beyond the glass. “But she’s the one who’s lost. I want to help her.”

He’s puzzled. “She’s a devil.”

“No, she’s just a woman.” Supergirl sees his eyes start to drift away from her. “Please. I am asking for your help. If there’s anything you know… anything that could help me— connect with her.” He looks away, stony gaze, going absent, settling on Alex. “I haven’t failed,” she tells him, even as she sees his eyes watering. “I haven’t. I will stop her. But I need to do it my way. You have to believe in me.”

“How do we kill her?” Alex asks. “Does she have the same weaknesses as Supergirl? Is she different in any way?” Supergirl flushes hot. “You said if Supergirl fell at her hands the world would follow. I want to save this planet. Will she go to other planets if Supergirl can’t put a stop to her?”

“Yes. She is like you.”

Supergirl frowns. “What does that mean?” Coville stares straight ahead at Alex. “If you don’t help me…” she sighs, frustrated. “Is this all you have for me? My only option is to kill her?” Coville laces his hands. “Some shepherd you are.” She stares hard at him but he doesn’t look at her. “Release him,” Supergirl tells Alex. “He can’t help us.”

She exits the room, only noticing when the door has closed that the camera light has gone off. Coville and Alex remain. Her x-ray vision is useless here. She can’t hear through this room. They’ve insulated it so she can’t. She paces. An hour later Alex joins her in the hallway. “What the hell took so long?” Supergirl asks. “You need to release him. Enough is enough. I don’t need him. I don’t need false believers.”

Alex says nothing for a long time, her face stony, eyes blank. “I don’t think you understand the depths of depravity this Worldkiller is capable of.”

“I’ve seen it.”

“No, you haven’t.” She looks at her. Supergirl crosses her arms. “We don’t know when you’ll face her again, but she’s not like you. That thing doesn’t care about anyone or anything. I know this goes against… everything I’ve been begging you to do for the past few years but… you can’t be soft when you face her, Kara. You can’t think about your loved ones here, you can’t think about your surroundings. You can’t even worry about collateral damage. If you don’t stop her she will burn this world to the ground.”

“You sound serious,” she scoffs, afraid that her voice will break.

“I am serious. I want to be there by your side when she appears again but I don’t know if that will happen. And if I’m not there— I just want you to remember to… be cold. Be ruthless. Be alien.” The words are a kick to the gut. Is that what she thinks of them? Of her? “She will not fight you like a human. She will not fight you with a conscience. Your human heart is a weakness. She will not have the same qualms as you. You’ll have to outmatch her. You’ll have to put her in the ground.” Supergirl breathes slowly. “Promise me.” She takes hold of her arm. “You have to promise.”

Her mouth is dry. “Okay. I promise.” She’ll try to mean it. Doesn’t she understand what she’s asking of her? Asking her to kill another Kryptonian? Another one of her own? Her people are worth preserving. She has to try.

“I am so afraid, Supergirl.”

Supergirl straightens. Maybe now isn’t the best time to mention the holiday party. “Don’t be. I’ve got this.” Alex looks worried. “What did he say to you?”

Alex shakes her head. “More end of the world bullshit. Nothing for to worry about.”

X

Even the air at CatCo is different. It’s suffused with energy. Kara forgot all the smells: pastries and coffee for morning meetings, perfume, magazines and newspapers hot off the presses. She expects security to stop her as she walks in, but all she gets is a wave and ‘how have you been?’ from Jorge, the security guy. Kara asks about family, kids’ soccer games. Jorge beams. He once told her how nice it felt to have someone remember the little things. _Everyone else acts like I’m not even here,_ he told her. She knows the pleasure and loneliness of anonymity.

The elevator looms ahead, floor numbers bright. A chill overcomes her. She takes a breath and presses the button. Other people crowd in with her when the elevator arrives. Some smile at her, others, who know she was fired, look away warily, as if her failure is contagious. Her least favorite thing about CatCo has always been the mean girl culture. The dog-eat-dog culture. Siobhan did well here until she didn’t. Leslie did well here until she didn’t. And she herself did well, until she became Supergirl. All that goodness went out the window.

The elevator arrives at the main floor and Kara steps out. She walks apprehensively, feeling like a trespasser. The pink tiger is still there. She smiles; it’s silly what can make someone feel at home. This is where she met Winn. He’s always been so good to her. Supergirl invited him to the party earlier. _A holiday party? Try to keep me away. I’m going to deck the hall with all kinds of boughs of holly._ He smiled. She’d forgotten his dimples. How sweet he could be. _It’s going to be great to see you,_ he went on. _You know… you_ ** _you._** She wasn’t sure whether to be irritated, or grateful. She still isn’t sure who she is. But maybe it has more to do with the people in her life. The people that matter to her, instead of what she can lift, how far she can see. Those parlor tricks. But what if it doesn’t matter? What if for the most part, she can’t decide who she is? Those pieces of her are intertwined and impossible to separate. Kara Zor-El of Krypton, Supergirl of Earth, Kara Danvers. Maybe they’ll always bleed together.

She walks past Cat’s office; she isn’t there. It’s pathetic how disappointed she is. When she worked for Cat, she was growing in some way, even if it came at the expense of hurt feelings and frustration. Cat taught her to push herself to her absolute limits. _She treats you like shit,_ Alex once told her. It was hard to disagree, but she did disagree. _No, she just wants perfection. She’s pushing me to be better._ Alex hadn’t been convinced. She isn’t sure Alex was right, and even if she was, if it doesn’t change her own feelings… how much does it matter?

She keeps walking. Some of the journalists who were there the night she walked out of her interview with Lena turn to one another to whisper. She catches wisps of their words, no matter how she tries to suppress her hearing. Her face burns. Maybe they’re right to think Kara Danvers is inept and irresponsible. She’ll never be able to explain why. By the time she reaches James’ office she’s convinced her face will melt off.

She sees him through the glass, poring over layouts. The last time they technically talked was when he handed her the phone with Alex on the line, just before she walked out of that interview. The time before then was when he returned the beacon watch to her. Whether he knows it or not, he saved Lena’s life. She thought he was arrogant at the time, sensitive, and unrealistic, to think he could put himself on the same level as her. She wishes she could explain that she didn’t earn this power and notoriety. It’s biology. He should know that. But maybe that’s what hurts: to know that no matter how hard he works and trains, he can never hope to even challenge what she does with no effort. She wishes people didn’t take her existence personally.

She knocks on the door and he looks up. He smiles, cocks his head for her to enter. She does and he leaves his drafting table to go to her. There was a time that being in this room with him reduced her brain to mush. She would trip over her words, blush incessantly. She never thought he would look at her the same way, and when he did, something changed for her. She’s never been able to understand her feelings. That has nothing to do with Earth or being Supergirl. It’s a Kara problem. It scares her how everything just turned off.

“There’s a face I haven’t seen in a long time.” He comes close and she thinks he’s going to hug her, but he slips his hands into his pockets instead. “How you been, Kara?”

It isn’t a trick question but she finds herself scrambling for a response. “Okay. You know, besides…” she shrugs.

“I tried to talk to Snapper.”

She didn’t know, but it doesn’t surprise her. James and Winn always covered for her. “Just a… hazard of the moonlighting gig. You didn’t have to do that. It was… a long time coming.” She touches her glasses. “I uh. Um.” She digs into her bag and pulls out the invitation. A physical invitation is formal, maybe too old school. When she handed the invitation to Lena she was delighted. _No plus one?_ Kara laughed, pushed the glasses up her nose. She didn’t answer the question. “Here.”

James takes the invitation, pulls it out of the red envelope. It’s a deep blue color, with golden stars dotting the skies. She sees his puzzlement. “You’re having a holiday party and I’m invited.”

“Yes.” A beat. “I know it’s late notice. It was kind of a… last minute… thing.” After her talk with Maggie at the beach she got to thinking. If she wants to reconnect with those important people in her life, she’ll have to make an effort, rather than just wishing it’ll happen without any work on her end. She doesn’t like parties. She doesn’t like having everyone together. It’s hard to be that many things at once. It’s like being suffocated. Alex is telling her to distance herself from things. To be cold. She will be. Can be. She’ll try. “It’s going to be Winn and… you know, the usual people. If you can make it, I’d like for you to come.” He lifts his eyebrows, taps the invitation against his hand and leans against the desk. “If you can’t make it…”

“No, I’ll go. I’m going.” He says, looks at her. “I’m surprised. You know, I thought our falling out would last longer. I’m glad it hasn’t.”

“It wasn’t a falling out. You were… unhappy with me.”

“Who has the watch now? Alex?”

Her cheeks redden. “Uh. No. I gave it to Lena.” She shifts, hands grasping the strap of her messenger bag. “She’s always… getting into bad spots.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

She takes a breath. “I was unhappy with our conversation when you gave it back to me.”

“Because you don’t believe in me.”

“It’s not that, James. You help out in so many other ways. With … journalism, with…photography. With… just being a stable presence. Your support has always meant a lot to me. You don’t need a suit to be a hero.” But she can tell he’s unhappy again. “I didn’t come here to argue. I came here to invite you to the party and… to tell you I’m sorry if I gave you a hard time about the watch. Lena has it. You helped save her life. I got to her before she could…” she lowers her voice, “die from cyanide poisoning. Edge, again.”

He tightens his lips, nods. “That Kryptonian got to him.”

Kara’s voice is tight. “Yeah.”

“Is it true that he ended up—”

“Yes. It’s true.” She sighs shakily. She thinks of him in his grave, bones crushed. She thinks of Sam, somber and intense at his grave. “It was awful.”

“What are we going to do about her?”

For a moment she thinks he means Sam. But he means Worldkiller. “We? What ‘we’? There is no ‘we’. Not about this.”

“Kara—”

“No, James. She’s Kryptonian—”

“She.” He mulls that over. “You’ll need help.”

“No, I won’t. I have this under control.”

“You told me it isn’t weakness to ask for help.”

“It’s not. But you can’t help me. I know you want to— and it must hurt and be frustrating that you can’t but you _can’t_ help with this. The best thing you can do is just stay out of it. Join the NCPD or something, if you really want to be out on the streets. You can do a lot of good with them.”

“NCPD? Come on.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to be a cop, Kara. I can’t do the most good there.”

“Maggie works with the NCPD. She’s helped me a lot. She does a lot of good. She helps people. Reassures them. That Guardian outfit scares people.” He turns away from her. Kara sighs inwardly. She doesn’t understand why punching people is somehow more important than helping ordinary citizens. “I wouldn’t do this if I had a choice. You _have_ a choice. Count yourself lucky.”

“How can you say that when you don’t value the choice I’m making?”

Kara breathes out. “I can’t control what you do. I may want to but…” she shakes her head. “I guess we’ll just never agree.”

“I guess not.”

She licks her lips. “Are you coming to the party?”

“I said I was going and I’ll be there.”

“Okay.” She flexes her jaw. “I’m glad. I… I know I haven’t been there lately. And not just because I got fired.” She chews her lower lip. “I want to be better.”

He chuckles, shakes his head. “You’re already the best around.”

She smiles faintly. “I won’t tell Clark you said that.” She wonders if she should hug him. Hugs resolve so much. They say what words can’t, but she’s still unsure if she’s trying to take the easy way out via shortcut. Is it a shortcut if the intention is genuine? She doesn’t know. She’s still thinking about it when he tells her he has to get back to his layouts.

She leaves him and moves through CatCo. Her mood improves at the ringing phones, the voices bouncing back and forth. _Keira!_ Cat yelled at her so much. _I told you explicitly to not put Harrison through; honestly, his career is in the gutter, he’s back to doing his little space movies._ The thoughts scatter. Cat Grant heads towards her, faster than a speeding bullet. Cat stops in front of her, whips her sunglasses off. It should annoy her but she feels a wave of fondness. “Ms. Grant.”

“You no longer work here and still you insist on these pointless formalities. Not sure if I like it or find it pathetic. Follow me.”

Kara follows. “You don’t have to call security, Ms. Grant. I was heading out.”

“You don’t head out until I say you head out.” She leads her to her office, points at a chair across the desk. Kara dutifully sits as Cat digs through a stack of glasses, picking up a pair of blue frames and slipping them on, squinting at her. Cat appraises her and decides she made the right decision with her chosen frames. “The replacement you got for me is a disgrace and quite honestly,” she says through gritted teeth, “I don’t know how you haven’t died of shame.”

Kara comes up empty. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well,” she slams the laptop cover down, “let me just refresh your memory. Nearly three years ago you got a so-called qualified Eve Teschmacher to replace you as my personal assistant. And already she is gone.”

“It’s been three years.” Kara hesitates. “Did you fire her?”

“Who do you take me for?” She rolls the chair closer to the desk, lancing her with her eyes. “As a matter of fact she _left._ Not long after you did. Didn’t even give me the pleasure of firing her, she just walked out. Do you know who’s been answering my calls? Jimmy. When he’s not moving exercise equipment into his office.” She exhales slowly as if trying to gather her bearings. “How could you let this happen?”

Kara blinks. “Uh.” She doesn’t know what’s happening. “Sorry?”

“How many times have I told you to stop apologizing?” She sighs. “I understand you have some availability so I would like for you to come and interview for a position as my personal assistant. If you would be so lucky as to get the position, you would start at the base pay you began at many years ago…We’ve recently switched insurance companies and the deductible is higher than it was when you left. ” She sighs and looks at her. “But what else do you have to do? They say there are other fish in the sea, but we both know that’s just an expression.”

“You’re offering me my old job back?” Kara parts her lips. “But what if I don’t want to come back?”

“You do want to come back. I see the emotion of this moment has gobsmacked you, and that’s why you have that dumb look on your face, but I am onto you, Kara Danvers. I saw you walking these halls, eyes bright like Christmas.”

“I’m not a christian.”

“Neither are most people who celebrate Christmas. It’s about presents, Kara. I swear, you are an alien if you don’t understand that.” Kara flushes. Cat sighs. “I’ll expect you here— oh, I don’t know. I’ll have Jimmy look at my schedule and see when we can pencil you in. Keep your phone handy. You’ve been given quite the opportunity. I’ll expect you to drop everything and attend to me. Is that clear?”

“But I haven’t agreed to—”

“It’s settled, then.”

“Okay,” she says. Cat opens her laptop. Kara stands, unsure. She should be happy. Maybe she’s happy. What if Cat Grant is just teasing her? “I’m having a holiday party.” Cat looks up, expression like she’d forgotten she was there. “If you’d like to come—”

“Hoping to get into my good graces. Smart.” She pulls her glasses off. “As much as I wouldn’t love to go to your unintentional ugly sweater party, I have Cameron this year and the two of us are going to spend the week together. We don’t get enough time together, he likes this time of year… I am a mother, I’d like to spoil him,” she swings the glasses around her finger. “Adam’s going to be in town.”

“That sounds nice, Ms. Grant. Mothers are important.”

“To be clear, I wouldn’t go even if I didn’t have plans.”

“Oh.” She smiles a bit. “I guess that’s like you.”

“Hurry along now,” she says. Kara nods, goes. “Kara?” She stops, too happy that Cat still remembers her name. “Have a happy holiday, all right?”

“I will.” Kara smiles, the grip on her messenger bag strap loosening. “You too, Ms. Grant.”

X

Kara kneels before the toilet trying to stave off the nausea. She’s still staring at it when there’s a knock. She stands when she’s sure she won’t throw up, and slips her glasses on from the sink. The party is tonight, but she doesn’t know anything about parties. Alex usually helps with this stuff. She hasn’t even changed yet. She goes to the door. She can smell her. The scent of her skin and the delicate fragrance of her shampoo. Her heart thumps harder. She opens the door. Lena.

Lena stands, a black dress flecked with gold. Her hair is loose, her make-up barely there, hair spilled over her shoulders. She’s radiant. “Um,” Kara says. _Say something else._ _“_ Wow.” Not that. “You look like a Klimt painting.” _The Kiss_. Or maybe… _Judith and the Head of Holofernes_. Kara can’t decide.

Lena smiles, looks past Kara, back to her. “Am I early?”

“A little. But you’re always welcome, no matter the hour.” She takes the wine bags Lena lifts, and the platter of baked goods. “Oh. Come in. Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare—”

“I don’t mind.”

Kara laughs, brings the wine to the kitchen island. She gestures around the loft. “I got decorations up and a tree because… the Danvers’ always had a tree. I guess… that’s what makes it Christmas— or you know, the holiday season for me.” It occurs to her she doesn’t have to explain holiday decorations.

“You’re not blasting Christmas music yet.”

“I don’t have any. But I do have a Pandora station ready to be fired up with holiday classics.”

“Could I bribe you into not playing any tonight?”

Kara smiles, hands on her hips. “I don’t think you have enough money for that, Ms. Luthor.” She clears her throat. Lena’s smile is steady. “Um. Please get comfortable. I have to change.” She gestures at the jeans and pale blue sweater.

“Can I help with anything?”

Kara nearly asks her to help her pick an outfit. “No… I have a box,” she goes to the coffee table where it sits. “It has holiday knick knacks in it. If you could help me make this place… more cheery. Time got away from me,” she mutters. She pulls out a steel reindeer with a red nose, walks him in the air. “I haven’t taken these out in years.”

“I’m glad you’re breaking out the big guns for tonight.” She looks into the box. “Go get ready. I’m not going anywhere.”

Kara does, retreating to her ‘bedroom’ to stare at the clothes hanging on the rack. What to wear? The nervousness of before has been replaced by a different kind. Her heart beats faster. She swallows, puts on a black dress with red flower patterns on it, pulls her hair loose just a moment before pinning it at the sides again. She is not fashion forward. Fashion wise she’ll never stand on even ground with Lena. This dress could be worn to church. Or a funeral. She trails her fingers over the fabric, disappointed, and exits.

Lena smiles. “‘ _Wow’_ yourself.” Kara smiles, not buying it. Lena pauses, holding up mistletoe. “Where do you want it?”

Kara keeps her distance. “Um. I don’t know. Maybe...” She points to the spot above the balcony doors, “there? If anyone wants privacy.”

“Who do you anticipate will be kissing tonight?” Lena asks.

Kara considers, but isn’t sure if Lena knows about Sam and Maggie. It’s not her business to say, even if she did push Maggie about it. “Maybe no one. But it must get everyone’s imagination going, huh?” They get a chair and Kara steadies it while Lena pins the mistletoe up. “Thanks for the help.”

“I can’t say ‘no’ to you.”

They put up a few more decorations and lights before they return to the couch. “It looks good,” Kara says. The lighting is cozy. She nearly asks Lena to take a picture with her. Doesn’t. “Oh. I wanted to tell you. Cat Grant wants me to return to CatCo.”

“She does?” Lena smiles. “Kara, that’s great news.”

“It wouldn’t be as a reporter. She wants me back as her personal assistant. And I’d be back at my starting pay. It’s the hardest job I’ve ever done.”

“But _Cat Grant_ wants you. That means something.”

“She wants me to interview. Or so she says, but I think that’s just… a thing she’s saying so I don’t feel confident that I have it.”

“This is great news but you sound unsure.”

“I can’t keep up with Cat. Even when she promoted me I was… like a goose on water. I looked fine on the surface but I was kicking desperately to remain afloat. I know most people expect me to just get it together. And I should… I just don’t know how I’ll feel if the one job I used to be good at — isn’t a good fit anymore. What if it’s just a confirmation of everything I knew. That I can’t … make work _work_.”

“You can’t psych yourself out before it happens. Look. Things happen and… we’re not always at our best. But what matters is knowing we gave the best we were capable of.”

“But what if doing my best isn’t even average?” She sighs, planting an elbow on her thigh and looking at her. “Reporting was a way to get out of my comfort zone. I never got as good at it as I wanted. To be honest, I hadn’t even given it that much thought until…” she licks her lips, “until we met. I saw how it helped you. You said you were surprised by name wasn’t on the byline. It got me thinking.” She straightens a little, stares at the floor, hands on her own thighs. “Maybe that sounds pathetic.”

“Kara, of course not.” She looks at her, a little emotional. “I—”

There’s a knock on the door. Kara sighs inwardly. “Let’s continue this later?” Lena smiles, nods. Kara stands, extends a hand to her. Lena takes hold and Kara lets the warmth of her palm envelop her. She calculates the exertion she must provide to lift Lena. As forceful as still air. She has to be so careful. Lena gets to her feet and Kara swallows her compliments. Lena already knows she looks incredible. She goes to the door. James and Alex look past her to Lena, smile at her, enter.

X

Sam smiles, sees Maggie in the corner of the mirror, resting against the door frame. “If you’re trying to hide from me, you’re doing a terrible job,” Sam says.

Maggie looks behind her, to the hallway. “I know, but I don’t want Ruby to—”

“Just get over here.” Sam sets her lipstick down when Maggie comes closer. There’s a trepidation to her movements, laidback as she is. “I never thought you’d be terrified of a twelve year old.”

Maggie leans into the bathroom wall, crosses her arms lightly. “Her puppy eyes are a thing to fear.”

Sam chuckles. “You wouldn’t believe what she’s gotten out of me when she uses those.”

“I know you’re teasing but—,” Maggie shrugs. “We’re in the beginning stages. Ruby doesn’t know, and that’s cool, but I want to be careful. She’s a kid and…” She smiles, shakes her head. “I’m preaching to the choir here.” Sam nods, kisses her. Maggie returns the kiss, but ends it briefly. “Hey, the door’s open,” she says quietly.

“She’s not here.” Not near. Sam doesn’t hear her. Another kiss, that makes her feel like she’s flying, even if something about Maggie’s touch is far away, recognized but not necessarily felt. It’s mortifying to think some of these junior high kids have gotten more action in the past year than she has. Sam brings Maggie’s hand to her side, squeezes her fingers to her. Their kiss breaks, Maggie looking at her a little breathlessly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She flexes her fingers. Those same fingers Sam brought to her. “Arthritis.”

“You’re too young for that,” Sam returns to getting ready. “Don’t tell me you sit behind a desk at work.”

“I try not to,” she massages her fingers, curious. “I used to have nightmares about it. These days being benched seems like a vacation.”

“The NCPD is—” _Worthless_. Sam brings a hand to her mouth, trying to keep the word inside, unsure of where such a horrible thought has come from. Maggie watches her, puts a hand to her back. Sam closes her eyes, trying to stop her fingers from twitching. She’s sweaty.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Sam exhales. Takes in long breaths until she feels like herself again. “Indigestion, maybe.”

Maggie cocks her head. “Did you throw back some egg nog at the L-Corp Christmas party?”

Sam laughs. “There was a party for the employees but I didn’t go.” She stares at the mirror, it’s gone black. She hears those whispers all around her. She is in a vacuum. She is trapped in ink. Muffled talk. She looks at Maggie, the light of the hallway spilling onto her.

“— right? You should sit.” Maggie takes her hand, pulls her to the bedroom, sits her on the bed. She stoops before her, takes her hands in hers. “You’re freezing.” She keeps her hands in her palms, soothing warmth onto them. The darkness recedes. “I think Kara would understand if you skipped the party.”

“I want to go. If I skip it she’ll think it’s because of our talk.” Sam says. Maggie cocks an eyebrow. “I saw her at Morgan Edge’s grave. And before you ask, I’ll tell you what I told her: I wanted to see if he was really dead.”

Maggie parts her lips, frowns. “I saw the crime scene. He’s really dead.”

“Was it bad?”

“Yeah. It was bad. Even Edge didn’t deserve that.” Sam pulls her hands away, rubs them on her thighs. Maggie looks away, unsure. “You warming up?” If only she could be rid of her imbecile daughter. She massages her temple. What are these thoughts…? She’s heard of postpartum depression. But this is delayed. Significantly. Ruby is not a nuisance. Ruby is not a nuisance. She loves Ruby. She won’t drown her. She tolerates— likes Maggie. “Sam?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m really cold.” She opens the nightstand drawer. There used to be something in there. It’s not there anymore. She searches but finds nothing. There’s something missing. A puzzle piece that’s keeping her from completing the whole image. She remembers Lena’s press conference but nothing more.

Maggie sits beside her. “I could make you a cup of tea or cocoa before we head out? I don’t think Ruby will complain about cocoa.”

Sam laughs, wipes her eyes. Maggie must think she’s insane. She feels insane. This is too much for her to have to deal with. Maggie already picked Ruby up from school today when Sam forgot. Maggie’s already done so much. Why hasn’t she run? Doesn’t she understand she’s dangerous? “No. Just stay with me.” Her teeth are nearly chattering. She feels a pull she can’t recognize, a desire to plunge into the black of the night. Maggie wraps an arm around her shoulders, strokes her arm. “We’ll make her cocoa before we go.”

“Okay.” Maggie stays close. Sam can only occasionally feel her breath on her neck, the hand strokingher arm. It comes in patches like static, communicated, not communicated, heard, not heard. “Did you have a bad talk with Kara?” she asks.

“Not really. It felt more serious than it was. I said— you know, Edge is dead. I’m not going to spill tears over him when Lena’s safe. That man was dangerous.”

“Yeah, he was.”

“Kara disagreed, said he would have been better off in jail. And Maggie— don’t get me wrong, I respect the hell out of what you do— but he’d been doing that kind of crap for years and never faced any repercussions. Everything feels so unsafe when you can’t count on the usual things to safeguard you. Who knows how many Morgan Edges there are out there, who won’t ever face any time for their horrible deeds.” She slumps. “I feel so powerless knowing that everything could be taken away from me, from my loved ones, and there will be no justice. None.”

Maggie doesn’t say anything for a long time. “I don’t think it’s a situation that has easy answers. I know there are others who feel just as frustrated as you. Even in the NCPD. There are officers who are…” she huffs, “really egging this… person on. Maybe it feels like for once it’s not innocents who are the victims. It’s the bad guys. But I get Kara’s point of view. I’m sure she understands yours. You both care about Lena. You both want her to be safe.”

“I’m worried she’ll tell Lena about it and Lena will have… some negative image of me. God, this is so junior high; I thought I was past this crap.”

“You’re all adult women and you can have reasonable conversations. The conversation wasn’t nasty, was it?” Maggie asks. Sam shakes her head. “Then it’ll be fine. She invited you to that party, and if you feel well enough to be there— she’ll be happy you’ve gone.”

“Are you two officially friends now? I know it was a little…” she makes a little hand wave motion. “For a while.”

Maggie chuckles. “Yes, it’s official.”

“I like her a lot, too. There’s something about her that draws you in. I think about her so much.” She sees Maggie’s breath trap in her chest. “Not like that. Her face is so… bright. Hey, do you think your ex is going to be at that party?”

“Kara’s sister?” Of course Kara’s sister. “It’s possible.”

“Is it going to be awkward for you? Should I not kiss you in front of her?”

Maggie laughs. “Is that how you want Ruby to find out?” Sam chuckles. “I don’t think it’ll be awkward. It’s been a long time.” Then why is her pulse racing? Sam looks at her. “This is what she wanted.”

“For you to come to a party with your new girl and a kid?”

“Hey, come on.” Is she sensitive? Sam gives her a little kiss of apology. Maggie looks at her for moments before standing. “If you’re feeling better we should get going. We’re already running behind.” She takes her hands and tugs her to her feet.

Sam stands. “Yeah. Kara might have cocoa at hers and if not, I can run out and get some. I don’t want to be late. I’m already nervous enough as it is seeing Kara and Lena…”

“Have things been okay at work?”

“Fine, but…” Maggie waits. “I keep losing track of time… I haven't been at my best.”

“We all have our off days.” Maggie rubs her shoulders. “Tonight is supposed to be fun. Kara and Lena want you there. We’re the dream team, right?”

Sam nods, smiles. “Right. Wait, I didn't finish getting ready—”

“You look great. Let's head out.”

Sam looks to the nightstand drawer, one more time, hears a bang, from long ago, heads out the bedroom with her. Ruby’s playing on the laptop, absorbed by whatever’s onscreen. Maggie was worried over nothing. Sam wraps her arms around her shoulders. “What are you looking at, Rubes?”

“These pictures one of the boys at school sent me from the Waterfront.”

Sam looks at the screen, sees the bloodied Supergirl statue. “Ruby, you shouldn't be looking at this.” She hears a man’s screams. A sharp stop. “That is not okay. Close the window.”

Ruby does, pouts. Sam hears Maggie moving quietly behind her. Ruby looks from her to Sam. “I didn't do anything wrong.”

“I know, sweetheart, but you don't want those kinds of images in your head. It'll give you nightmares.”

“Have you been having nightmares about it?”

Sam frowns, smiles. “What? Why would— No, I haven't.”

“I've heard you screaming at night.”

“What…?”

“And sometimes you're crying,” she says more quietly. “It scares me.”

Sam flushes. She doesn’t remember any of it. But that doesn’t matter now. She doesn’t matter now. Only making sure Ruby knows everything’s okay. She’s okay. “Hey… baby girl, why didn't you say something sooner? I had no idea.” Supergirl’s crest glows around Ruby’s neck, staring her in the face. Sam’s skin itches and crawls. “I’m sorry if I scared or worried you.” She wants to ask if she said anything weird. She can’t. Not in front of Maggie. She can’t make things weirder for her. “Maybe we can talk about that later? Are you doing okay?” Ruby nods. Sam hugs her. Ruby returns it. Sam holds her tightly, fearing she'll soon go away from her, afraid of the dark feeling inside of her. She glances back at Maggie who stands at a distance.

“Why don't I whip up some hot cocoa before we head out?” Maggie asks.

Sam blinks her eyes, pulls back from Ruby to look at her. “What do you say, hon? Hot cocoa?” Ruby nods.

“I'll take care of it,” Maggie says. “No rush, okay?”

“ _Thank you,_ ” Sam says. Maggie goes. Sam takes Ruby's hands and leads her to the couch. “Is it okay that Maggie's getting cocoa ready?”

“Yeah. She's nice.”

“Yeah, she is.” She looks at her a long time. “Ruby… when I’m … having these dreams, do I say anything?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Anything weird or scary?”

“Nothing that makes sense. I've tried to lean in close to hear it but… I think you're just mumbling. It doesn't sound like English.”

_I’m like Supergirl._ The memory slaps her, leaves her dizzied and then is gone. She remembers a — no. It's gone. If she has a tumor, she hopes it doesn't kill her during Christmas. She'd hate for Ruby to mourn every year when she should be celebrating.

“But you seem… scared and sad,” Ruby continues. “When you wake me up with those dreams. Sometimes you're not even on the bed. It's like… you're sleepwalking.”

“Oh.” She thinks. “I used to sleepwalk when I was little.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. It's supposed to stop when you get older but I must be a special exception.” Ruby fingers the Supergirl crest. Sam fights yanking it off her neck. “Either way, I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“Are you sick?”

“No, no,” she feels sick, “I’m just tired.”

“You forgot to pick me up today. That’s the second time you’ve done that. You never used to do that. Maggie’s nice but…” she twiddles her thumbs.

Sam takes a breath. “I am so sorry that happened. I wish … I had an answer for you… but I don’t. I just…” Forgot Ruby existed. What a strange feeling. She feels something pressing into her brain, darts of pain. She rubs her eyes. She can’t explain to her that she hasn’t been well. She doesn’t want to scare her. “I’m just glad Maggie was close by.”

Ruby doesn’t say anything for a long time. “Are you two together?”

How? How has she asked this question? How has she figured it out? She wasn’t expecting the conversation, she didn’t prepare for it. “Um.” Shit. She looks at her. “What’s brought this on?” Ruby shrugs but doesn’t look at her. She thinks back to what she read ages ago when she thought she might date. Don’t give too much information. Don’t bother making introductions unless it’s been at least six months and it’s serious. Okay. But Ruby met Maggie long before they got to this stage. So now, to tell a truth that borders on a lie. “Ruby. Maggie’s a friend. So yes, I do like spending time with her. I know it must be weird to have someone else around. If you think she’s spending too much time here,” even if honestly it’s only been Thanksgiving day and today, “you let me know. But Ruby— someday, if it ever is serious with someone— I want you to know that you are the most important person in my life. Nothing, no one is ever going to replace you. It’s always been you and me, right?” Ruby nods but remains sullen. “Hey. Hold my hand.” Ruby looks at her cautiously. “Go on.” Ruby extends a hand. Sam takes it. It’s warm and soft, so small and fragile. She can remember first holding her, sweaty and in agony, in a room full of strangers. She was alone and then she wasn’t; Ruby was with her. It was the happiest moment in her life. It still is. “You feel that?”

“Your pulse?”

Sam smiles. “That’s you. You are my heart.”

“Yeah…?”

Sam smiles. “Uh huh. You know… I heard that this,” she touches the necklace around Ruby’s neck, “means ‘stronger together’. Supergirl’s really great, isn’t she? I am so happy you look to her for an example.” She won’t take it personally that she isn’t Ruby’s hero. “I know it’s been hard this year. But that’s what we are, okay? Stronger together, always.” Ruby smiles. Sam wraps her arms around her, holds her tight. “No one will ever come between us. No one can ever keep me from you.” She pulls back and smiles. “Mama bear knows best, right?”

“Right,” she nods.

“You know tomorrow? Christmas morning? Just you and me, all right? But if you’d rather stay in tonight, that’s okay, too.”

“I want to go. I want to see Kara.”

Sam chuckles. “Of course you do.” She hears a footstep behind her, sees Maggie with a tray, three steaming cups of hot cocoa. “Still in the mood for cocoa?”

Ruby jumps to her feet. “Yes!”

Maggie balances the tray on one hand, hands the cocoa over. Sam looks over, grateful. She tries to hold on to that feeling, not this other sensation, hot inside of her, moving like tar and sticking. Her vision is darkening. She hears the cracking of the mug in Her hand and hurries to the kitchen, leaving Maggie and Ruby to talk. She’s just reached the kitchen when it— slips— explodes in Her hand. It falls to the tile, spilling cocoa and broken ceramic everywhere. Maggie and Ruby rush over.

Sam stares at the fragmented mug, voice flat. “Stay back honey, I don’t want you to cut yourself.”

Maggie helps Her clean up. She watches, hearing her pound against the glass.

X

She can’t hide in her room. She has to make an effort. She has to be available.

Kara studies the room, Lena, Sam and Maggie, stand around one of the tables she dragged out, covered in a tablecloth, sharing drinks. James, Alex, Winn and J’onn sitting on the couch, telling stories, huddled over a game of Operation. Ruby’s face is fixed in intensity as she tries to pry out the broken bone from the arm without setting the nose alarm off. Alex glances cautiously over to the island, her face is stiff.

It’s too many people. She was too confident. Glasses and beers bump against tables, the screech of the Operation buzzer like nails in her ears, the patient’s nose pulsing out red light. Voices overlap. She slips away into the noises of the city. The constant hum is a comfort, takes her away from here. It’s easier to not be present than to—

Alex hands her a beer. Kara looks at the bottle, takes it, unsure where it came from. Maybe Winn or James brought it. Or Maggie. She touches the label. There’s no condensation. “So I tell you to focus and you throw a big Christmas party?”

“Holiday party.” Kara flushes, pulls at her earlobe, touches her glasses. “It’s not big.”

“It is for you.”

Kara bites the inside of her lip.

“I wasn’t expecting Maggie to be here.”

Kara shifts her weight. “She’s a friend, so I invited her.”

“You’re friends with Maggie now?”

Kara thinks Alex should know this, that they’ve been working their way up to friendship for a while now but how can Alex know. Alex has really only seen her at work. “Yes.”

Alex has a drink of beer. “I think this is a mistake.”

Kara wants to agree, but feels, indignantly, like she should argue. “It’s just… a get-together.”

“And you’ve spent most of the night skulking off on your own. Just like when you were a kid.”

Eliza used to make Alex drag her to parties that Kara didn’t want to go to. She would go, retreat to a corner, trying to shut off the noise. It was harder then. “I’m working up to it.” She starts to peel off the beer label. _Leave me alone._ “I’m trying to get back into the swing of things.”

“I don’t get you, Kara. Lately it feels like you’re doing things just to spite me,” Alex says. Kara flares her nose, looks at the women at the table, all stunning. She feels like a little girl sometimes. “I beg you for _years_ to come back to us and the moment I tell you to be cold, to be distant—”

“To be alien?” she snaps softly.

Alex says nothing for a long time. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“I wish you and James would stop trying to keep me safe. I’ve got it. Okay? I can handle myself.”

Alex sighs. Lena looks over, smiles. Kara gives a small smile back. Pandora is playing on the bluetooth speaker playing _Holy Night_. LeAnn Rimes, maybe? _O holy night the stars are brightly shining, it is the night of our dear Savior’s birth._ Sam glances over, waves her over. _Long lay the world in sin and error, pining, till He appeared and the soul felt it’s worth_. “I’m going to go over. You can come, if you want.”

Kara goes. Alex follows. Kara makes introductions. Sam shakes Alex’s hand, points out Ruby still at the Operation board game. “My little one.”

“She’s really cute,” Alex says.

“The cutest. Have we met?” Sam asks.

Alex smiles quizzically. “I don’t think so.”

Sam looks at her a while longer. “You look so familiar.”

“I must have one of those faces.” Maggie and Lena exchange smiles, look at Alex and Sam without looking, while Alex looks without looking at Maggie. “So… you work at L-Corp,” Alex says to Sam, “but how did the two of you meet?” she asks Sam and Maggie.

Kara smiles anxiously.

Sam glances at Maggie, back to Alex. They seem to inch away from one another in unison. “Maggie’s with the NCPD. I work for Lena. Lena’s _Lena._ ” Lena laughs. “It’s harder _not_ to run into one another—”

Kara tunes out. Earlier, at Alex’s urging, she introduced Lena and Sam to ‘John’. Alex was looking out for her; reminding her that while Supergirl may know Lena knows who J’onn is, Kara doesn’t.

She wishes Alex had done the introductions. It’s another lie, covered in cloying sweetness, for Lena to potentially discover. _He’s like family to Alex, so that means he’s like family to me,_ Kara said. Even if he isn’t. Or she can’t remember the last time she felt that way. Can’t remember the last time she felt anything for any extended period of time. She lives only in cellophane wrapped moments. She hates her cheer, her defense mechanism from their worry and discomfort when she doesn’t smile. She reduces their voices to vibrations, searching the city. She can track people by their heart. It would be impossible to track down Worldkiller. Her heart rate was normal. Baseline. She wasn’t worried about her. Supergirl didn’t tell Alex that.

The song is still going, rich and moving. Her mind drifts to Rao and Krypton. She thinks of Coville. She walked out of the DEO with him. She called Maggie before then, who told her the NCPD couldn’t take him into custody. _I can’t jail people just on the world of Supergirl. I believe you, but we need more than that. Do you have any names of his followers? Any proof that he tried to blow up an arena?_ Supergirl was dismayed. _No._ Maggie sighed. _Then you have to let him go. I know that the DEO is the only organization that could have handled this. I don’t think he should be out in the community. I don’t think he’s safe but…_ Supergirl shook her head. _You’re right. I should have gotten the NCPD involved sooner. Kept some of the evidence. But… I can’t hold him forever. I don’t want to do that,_ she said. _Then you let him go,_ Maggie said. _If you think he’s safe, Supergirl, you let him go._ So she let him go. Coville seemed smaller, his clothing too loose. _For Your sake, for the world’s sake, I hope You find Your way,_ he said. _Her reign will begin at the fall of the righteous. You_ ** _must_** _defeat Her._ Supergirl kept her arms crossed. _I hope you find peace, Coville. Away from this cult. Those teachings weren’t meant for you. I know you’re trying to help— but please just forget them._ He seemed sad when he went. She hasn’t prayed in so long. The song pulls her back. _For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn, fall on your knees, oh hear the angel voices, Oh night divine, oh night, when —_

“Kara!” Winn waves.

Kara blinks, smiles at the table, excuses herself. She invited them but hasn’t engaged with this half of the room. She goes to them, still in a fog, feeling shy. She expected the familiarity and rhythm to come back to her but it hasn’t. She’s engaged more with Ruby than she has with J’onn, James or Winn these past few years.

“You mark my words, this one is going to be a surgeon,” Winn points to Ruby, prying out a spare rib from the man on the operation table. Kara looks at his nose, waiting for it to buzz red. Hearing it makes her teeth hurt. Kara looks at the drawing of the heavyset, naked man on the Operation table. He has a broken heart, wishbone, Adam’s apple, among other things to pull out. Winn notices her studying the board game. “Vintage, huh?” He lowers his voice. “It’s just two years older than you.” He stops whispering. “Found it on Ebay for like twelve bucks.”

The concept of surgery is incongruent in Kara’s mind. She was never sick on Krypton. Surgery is impossible for someone like her on this planet. Nothing can cut into her unless she has a solar flare, or is exposed to kryptonite. “It’s cool,” Kara smiles at him. J’onn and James’ gaze are on her. “Thanks for coming.” She looks at Winn, his reindeer sweater. “I like your sweater.”

“I like your dress,” he says back. Kara smiles, thanks him. James and J’onn attend to the board, their turns, as Ruby watches anxiously if the operation will be successful. The nose buzzes each time, putting their failure out for anyone within ear shot. “Sorry I yelled at you from across the room,” Winn says. “I was hoping we’d talk tonight but it hadn’t happened yet.”

She can tell he’s embarrassed. “That’s okay. I needed a wake-up call.” She doesn’t want to ask, but she asks. “Was there something we needed to talk about?”

“Not really. It’s really nice to be here, Kara. Beats a night of Chinese takeout.”

Is that what he’s been doing the past few years? She’s failed him as a friend. She knows his difficult family history. The shame and fear that’s haunted him at being the Toyman’s son; afraid his legacy will follow his father’s own. She knows that fear. She should have been better to him. An invitation from the Danvers’ family is typically the only one he gets. James usually visits family. “I’m glad you’re here, too.” She twiddles her thumbs. She wants to explain how some part of her has missed him. It’s more of a thought; like knowing the wind blows and it rustles the trees, even if she can’t feel it. Sensation has been hard for her these past few years. Physically it’s nearly impossible without kryptonite. Maybe having godlike strength makes it harder to be moved by smaller, human plights. It’s the kind of dangerous thinking that scares her. She doesn’t want to be this way. She doesn’t want to always be numb. “I want us to be okay.”

“Yeah, me too,” he says softly. He lifts his beer experimentally. “To being okay?”

She smiles, raises her beer, clinks it against his. “To being okay.”

X

“Don’t run,” Sam says.

Ruby ignores her, whisking away with mugs of cocoa for Winn and Kara. “I’ve got it, _Mom_ ,” Ruby says. “Aren’t _you_ the one who dropped a mug earlier?”

Brat. Ruby carries the mugs safely to Kara and Winn. Sam stares at Kara, her withdrawn, and earnest smiles. The dull throb in her head comes again. She knows wine won’t help, but it can’t hurt. It’s hard to remember when she _didn’t_ have a headache.

Lena smiles. “If you’d asked if I thought Ruby would enjoy going to an adults-only holiday party, I would haven’t believed it.”

Sam pours them wine. “She’s a strange one.” Sam sees Maggie from the corner of her eyes, talking, arms crossed, shaking her head at Alex. She can’t focus on that. “It’s my fault. She spends so much time around adults she’s turned into a miniature one. She doesn’t hesitate to call me out, I can tell you that.”

“Oh, like she did just now?” Lena teases. She touches the stem of her wine glass. “Unless there’s more?”

“Yeah.” She stares at her hand, flat on the table before looking to Lena. “There’s more.” She explains forgetting to have picked Ruby up. “What kind of mother does that? I’ve read those stories, people who forget their kids in the car when they go in to work and the kids die of heat stroke. I’ve always thought they were monsters. Thoughtless, irresponsible monsters. But is what I’ve done so different?” Lena frowns gingerly. “I don’t know where its come from. I’ve never had issues like this. Never. And before you ask, I went to the doctor, I had a scan done. Nothing popped up, Lena.” She huffs. “I don’t understand. It’s freaking me out and I’m scared.”

“Sam— everyone can be forgetful at times. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“But not like this. It’s different. Something is…” the words are raspy, as if some presence has wrapped its fingers around her throat. “Something is _wrong_.”

“All right. Maybe now isn’t the time but…” she looks over at the group. Sam looks with her. Kara’s still sitting on the floor delicately, eyes withdrawn. Ruby is holding the Operation pliers out to her. Kara snaps out of it, shakes her head. Ruby shakes the pliers at her. “If you’re this worried, it must be more than just forgetfulness.”

Sam looks away from them, has a drink of wine, sets it down, laces her hands in front of her. “It’s not _just_ forgetfulness.” She takes a breath, massages her forehead. “Christ— I know you’re my friend, but I feel like I shouldn’t be saying this.”

“Sam… forget about work. I’m your friend first. How many times do I have to say that?” Lena takes her hand. “I won’t force you to tell me anything. But I hope you know that I’m here. I won’t judge you. Whatever it is, it sounds like you want to get it out. It might help to talk to someone about it. I know I’m not…” she hesitates, taking her hand back. “Not the most reputable person…”

Sam shakes her head. “It’s not like that. I’m just… embarrassed.” She folds her arms on the kitchen island. “There have been a few things.” She keeps her eyes on Ruby. When she looks at her it’s easier to speak. It’s harder to get lost. “God. I should just say it. I don’t remember that trip I took to see the startup.” She looks back to Lena but her expression doesn’t change. “Ruby said I called her and told her something wonderful was happening. I don’t remember talking to her. I don’t remember taking or sending Kara a picture of an armadillo but I found it in my phone. Maggie said I called her and told her I spoke to Patricia, saw Patricia—” she looks at Lena, “but I don’t remember that. I don’t remember it. I haven’t seen her in nearly thirteen years. Why would I say that to Maggie if it wasn’t true?” Her voice is fading. “I don’t think they’re lying. They wouldn’t lie. They’re both so good to me.” Lena takes her hand again. “And I’m just so tired all the time,” she wipes her eyes, feels the tears springing. “When I do sleep I have… awful dreams. Dreams— that are so graphic and grotesque that I feel… scarred by them.” She sniffles, stands up straighter. Lena’s hand remains wrapped around hers. Sam breathes a little easier, squeezes her hand back. “I’m not just losing track of minutes or hours, Lena. I’m losing track of days. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s happening. I’ve been playing along with everyone— pretending I have _some_ kind of idea of what’s going on, but I don’t. If I knew… Anything would be better than not knowing. But I’ve gone to the doctor and I’ve gotten a clean bill of health so…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Lena moves around, wraps an arm around her shoulder to pull her close. Sam sees Kara glance over, look worried, but look away. Maybe the moment seems too intimate and she’s giving them the best space she can. “I promise you, we’re going to figure this out, okay? I’m not leaving your side until we do.” She smooths her hair. “You must be terrified. It’s normal to be scared when we don’t have answers… but that’s why we’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

Sam laughs nervously, sniffles. “Promise?”

“You have my word.” But she looks anxious; Sam wonders if Lena knows something she doesn’t.

X

Kara walks, hands in the pockets of her jacket. She remembers when the bullets from Lena’s press conference rested there, jitters making Kara play with them. Sam walks with her. Kara didn’t make dinner for the party. She used to be better at pretending. Everyone brought dessert, the holiday party reduced to a middle school affair. Maybe that’s how things are when Alex or Eliza don’t wrangle her in. She’s always been a little uncivilized. Normal customs elude her. She sighs inwardly. She should have made dinner.

“You didn’t have to walk with me,” Kara tells Sam. She might have gone elsewhere to get the food and been back quickly if Sam hadn’t insisted. No one on this planet seems to understand that sometimes people want to be alone.

“I don’t mind,” Sam says. “I was starting to feel a little claustrophobic.”

“Mh.” Kara glances at her. They’re wearing the same colors: black and red. Not very festive.

“Hey, um— about earlier— at the cemetery. I hope we’re okay. I wanted to apologize if I overstepped. Who am I to tell you how to live your life?”

“You didn’t say or do anything wrong. No apologies necessary.”

Sam smiles. “You’re nice.” Kara isn’t sure not having the energy or investment to engage is the same as being nice. Sam’s been great. She helped clear Lena. Kara tries to muster energy for her. They walk a little more. There are hardly any cars out. “There’s a tree lighting ceremony later tonight. I was thinking of taking Ruby to see it. Maybe we should all go.”

Kara doesn’t want to extend the night any longer. So much for finding energy. “Ruby will probably like that. I’m not sure if I can make it. I’m a little tired.” Mentally, anyway.

“You too? I wonder if something’s going around.”

Kara thinks of how distressed Sam seemed at the party. She turns from Sam to the sidewalk instead. “I hope I’m not being nosy… but I saw you earlier with Lena. Are you okay?”

“Yeah… it’s nothing new. Remember my headaches?” Kara nods. “It’s more of the same. No matter what I do I can’t seem to get back to normal.”

“I know what you mean. Maybe not in the same way, but…” Maybe Sam will never understand. It’s hard to get back to normal when she has so much on her mind. When so many families are going to be without their loved ones because she couldn’t stop Worldkiller from throwing her into abuilding. The media made a big deal about it. Supergirl’s been doing this so long and she can still screw up like this. She can’t be angry. Deep down, she agrees with them. Even the networks that have a slant. They wouldn't have died if she'd been better. She left flowers at the graves of those affected, but it hasn’t lessened her guilt, nor, she’s sure, has it lessened the suffering of those left behind. Maybe she’s only try to soothe her own conscience. Is there such a thing as true selflessness? “I’ve been having a hard time recently with being a good friend.”

“You’ve thrown a great party.”

“I just forgot to feed everyone.”

“We’re feeding them now. And Chinese, come on, who doesn’t love that? I could have sworn I saw that uh— the cute guy in the reindeer sweater?”

“Winn?” She smiles. Winn would love to hear that.

“Yeah. He perked right up.”

“Winn’s a nice guy.”

“He’s the guy at the FBI who had — that weird water testing device right?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“I thought he’d be older. And balder.”

Kara chuckles. “No. Young and cute.” She smiles to herself. “He’s patient. We’ve been through a lot of things together. He has a complicated family life, too.”

“Whoa. So… that makes you, me, Lena, Maggie, Winn, Ruby… what about John and James?” Kara laughs, wonders how they could all have lost so much and still kept existing. “Are we all only children?” Sam frowns. “Not that you—”

“It’s okay; I’m not offended. Lena and I have our siblings. But they were… surprise siblings. I’m not sure about ‘John’, but James has a sister. Winn’s an only child. So is Maggie. If I hadn’t been adopted…”

“I guess we were lucky to be taken in. Your sister’s really pretty, by the way. But scary? I just survived her inquisition.”

Kara laughs softly. “Yeah, that’s Alex.” She wants to ask if things are okay between them, but won’t intrude. “She’s always watched out for me.”

“I’m jealous. I’ve always wanted a sister.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ve always romanticized the idea. Someone who was like me. Who just got me, you know? Just the two of us against the world.”

Kara nods. “That sounds nice.”

“Maybe I do have one out there. Maybe I’ll never know.”

“You mentioned that before.” Long ago, at L-Corp when they commiserated over their adoptive families. “That seems sad. To keep missing each other in that way. I know you said that you never thought of looking for your birth parents. Do you still feel that way?”

Sam frowns thoughtfully, lips parting. “I’ve felt… restless lately.” She slips her hands in her pockets as she walks. “I don’t know how to explain it other than it feels like there’s something I have to do. It’s hard to wrap my head around it but maybe it’s something like that. A curiosity to find out where I came from.” She sighs softly. “I should talk to Patricia and see if I can get some answers.”

“It couldn’t hurt.” A beat. “It _could_ hurt. But I think… some hurt is worthwhile. Sometimes to get the things we want… we have to open ourselves up to be hurt. We can’t be so guarded.” She frowns, shakes her head. “I’m not saying this right.”

“I get what you mean. You’re right. I’ll give it some thought. No, I’ll do it. I’ll call Patricia.” They walk another small while. “Have you seen all those fluff pieces on Morgan Edge?” Sam asks. Kara nods soberly. “I can’t believe it. When it’s Lena and she’s innocent, give her no quarter, hide a correction in the back, but Morgan Edge, he was a saint.”

“You’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead. Maybe that’s why.” She still remembers his face disfigured face, how terrified he looked before Supergirl arrived.

“But you should be honest. If the legacy he leaves behind is that he was a good guy, who,” she spits, “‘paid for all the bills of those kids who were hospitalized during the lead poisoning scare’. What incentive is there to not do bad things?”

Kara shakes her head. “I don’t see it like that. I don’t think you can scare people into doing the right thing. I think…” she considers, “that goodness has to come from within.”

“If that were true we wouldn’t need laws. Everyone would be good for the sake of being good. The truth is, most people who don’t rob banks when they’re broke and down on their luck, don’t do it because it would be _wrong_. They don’t do it because they don’t want to go to jail. They want to be able to face their family. They don’t do it because they’re scared. If they _knew_ they could get away with it, without consequence? A lot more people would do it.”

Kara thins her lips. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I wish I could see things your way. I think I’d be happier.”

“I’m not so sure.” She could bring up Plato. _Good people do not need laws to tell them to act responsibly, while bad people will always find a way around the law._ If she were with Lena, that might be okay. She worries Sam might laugh at her. Who brings up Plato in casual conversation? It doesn't feel very casual. “But I do think that people, when given a choice, will choose to do good instead of ill.”

Sam smiles, shakes her head. “You’ve got a rosy eyed view of the world, Kara Danvers.”

Kara doesn’t tell her that she can’t afford to fall into despair, to decide that humankind isn’t worthwhile. She can’t turn her back on them. She was sent here for a reason. She can’t afford to be lost. “Maybe.”

“If I let myself think that way I’d fall into a deep depression when people disappointed me. But, I have a little girl. I don’t have that option. Is that the place?” Sam points ahead, a small building with its ‘open’ sign glowing bright red. She goes ahead without waiting for an answer. Kara stands outside, looking through the murky glass, red light bathing her. Sam is a shadow on the other side. Kara takes a breath and follows.

X

The party ends and they go. Winn and James off to vigilante for the evening, Alex and J'onn to see the lighting of the Christmas tree with Sam, Maggie and Ruby.

Maggie forgot her phone. Kara studied the stock wallpaper background, finding something reassuring about that kind of steadiness. She wonders if Maggie will return for it or if the joy of the evening will make her forget.

Kara looks around the loft. The beads of light dangle overhead like icicles, casting a warm glow in the dim room. Only she and Lena remain, neither one willing to say goodnight just yet. Lena blames her heels. _I don’t think I could bear to stand in these another few hours._ She takes them off and Kara does the same. She likes the idea of neither of them hurrying off to go anywhere.

“You never let me check in on you,” Kara tells her.

Lena smiles softly. “When has that _ever_ been true?”

Kara traces the rim of her wine glass before catching herself, afraid that with Lena, she’ll have some emotional response and everything will shatter. “Okay then…” she thinks of how to rephrase. “I always feel like I check in on you too late after something big happens in National City.”

“Something big is always happening in National City. I can’t always expect you to check in right away.” She smiles. “You’re my friend, not my therapist. And your time is your own.”

“But I have a lot of time.” She’s faster than anyone or anything. And she’s unemployed. She has no excuse.

“I can always reach out to you. Admittedly, I’m notorious for not properly expressing my feelings. What are feelings,” she adds with a roll of her eyes.

“I don’t think you’re so bad,” Kara says. Lena says nothing, but she looks quietly grateful. “I’ve been thinking about what happened with Morgan Edge and all the news coverage.”

“Sam mentioned she ran into you at the cemetery. You’ll have noticed I was _not_ there dancing a jig.”

Kara smiles wryly. “You must be wondering why I was there.”

They eventually released some details about Morgan’s death. Has Lena put it together? Or is Kara Danvers too inept, too clumsy, too weak to possibly be Supergirl? Supergirl failed to protect Morgan Edge. Is Lena disappointed or relieved? There are so many things she can’t ask.

“I can’t say that I am wondering,” Lena says. “What happened to him was grotesque. But do I doubt you’d go to the funeral of even an awful man? No, I don’t.”

“Oh,” she smiles and exhales at the same time. She shouldn’t be smiling. She teases at the coaster beneath the glass of wine. “I just hope…” She starts over. “I was surprised to see Sam there. To be honest, I worried she’d tell you she saw me there. And you would think that I’d…”

Lena waits. “That…?”

“That I’d been disloyal to you.” She blushes. “I know that sounds…” crazy.

Lena traces the stem of the glass. “Thoughtful? I think it sounds thoughtful. Kara… whatever you do or don’t do for those people in my life that…” she considers, “I don’t think highly of… I don’t doubt you. I have no reason to doubt you. I don’t need your loyalty; I want your friendship. You’ve always been open.” Kara bows her face, bites her tongue. “I am sorry whoever did this felt the need to throw him on the Girl of Steel statue. Do you know they’re saying Supergirl did it?” Kara nods numbly. “The media never learns. All they want is their clickbait headlines, knowing damn well that most people don’t bother reading the articles and take headlines for fact.”

“I think she’ll be okay. It’s not the first time someone’s tried to set Supergirl up.”

“You know, I tried to load up video of the Waterfront, bloody feed it to the media but the cameras were disabled.”

“Oh,” she breathes out. How did that happen?

“But Kara?”

“Hm?”

“It’s Christmas Eve and I don’t want to talk about Edge.”

“Yes. I understand.” She touches her glasses. “It’s just… we talked about how you would feel if he was no longer around. I know he scared you.”

Lena sits back, leaning against the couch. Kara plants an arm on the coffee table to study her. “Maybe it was an oversimplification. I think more than death, what scared me was… leaving this world without making my mark. Having accomplished nothing. There are still so many things that I want to do and put right. There are still so many things I haven't experienced. I've left too many things unsaid.”

Kara's heart flutters. “Oh. Wait here, okay?” She goes to her room, picks up the gift and carries it back to Lena. It took several tries and rolls of gift wrap before she was able to do it without tearing the paper, but she finally did it. The paper reminded Kara of a paint palette of silver and shimmers of white. A red bow ties it together. “This is for you.”

Lena looks from the gift to her. “Kara, you didn't have to get me anything.”

“It's …” _nothing special._ “I wanted to.”

“Should I open it now?” 

Kara nods. Lena looks at her quizzically, fusses over the paper. She carefully undoes the bow. Kara watches Lena’s fingers, delicate and loving as she peels back the wrapping. So unlike her own clumsy fingers. It's a blank canvas. Lena stares at it, and Kara knows she's debating whether it's meant to be symbolic or if this is the gift itself. Kara smiles. “It's not finished.”

Lena looks at her. “Is this the canvas that has gone missing from your easel?”

Of course she noticed. “Yes. I’m uh— not regifting it.” She laughs nervously. “I wanted to give this to you. Um. Something like a promise.” Lena looks at her. “I've … wanted to paint something for years. Literally,” she says more quietly. “But every time I tried I felt… blocked. I've always liked art. I used to paint with my father. He was more than a scientist. He was an artist, too. So when I came to live with the Danvers’ family… when I was something like okay again… that's what I would turn to. Mostly I did landscapes of Midvale.” It helped her learn this world. She looks at the blank canvas and back to Lena. “I know it seems last minute but it's not. When I’m with you… I feel something stir inside me. And it feels…” she takes a breath, blushing. “Like I can paint again. See color again.” Lena swallows. “So I thought… I would give this to you and you could tell me what you'd like… and I'll give it to you.” She grimaces. “Paint it for you. And maybe that means that it will take a while for you to get something. You won't have it tonight or tomorrow or anything … but eventually.”

Lena's quiet a long time. “You know I'll wait for you.” She blinks her eyes, bows her head and laughs. “I’m sorry— I’m not even sure what's happening right now.” She wipes her eyes delicately, clears her throat.

Kara is still, chest tight. “You don't have to think of it right now. The offer is … on the table. Not going anywhere.”

Lena finally looks at her again. “I think I know what I'd like, though I don't think you'll be happy with me.”

“Oh?” She tells herself not to be afraid. She smiles. “Try me.”

“Whatever you want to give me? That's what I want. Whatever you want to show me… that's what I would ask for.”

Kara puckers her lips thoughtfully. “Oh.”

Lena smiles. “See? I knew you wouldn't be happy.” A beat. “I feel a bit silly about your gift now. I got you something, too.” She stands, goes to her purse. “There's a bookstore I go to. I wanted to take you there, but I haven't had the time. And then I got to thinking and I thought— might as well.” She smiles. “I hope you don't mind, I had Sam bring them with her. It was my attempt at being sneaky.” She grabs a gift bag. Kara looks inside. “It’s a collection of art books. Portfolios, mostly. Very old copies. Some from abroad. I ordered them ages ago. But they're here.” She sets them in front of her. “I thought I was presumptuous. To be honest, I’m still worried it's presumptuous… but I've seen this canvas and I thought… maybe you could use some inspiration. Or that they’d be nice to peruse through on a lazy Sunday in. You don’t have to open them right now.”

Kara smiles, relieved. “I can’t wait to look through them.” But not now when she’s emotional and these delicate books might rip in her hands.

“And there's this,” she sets a business card in front of her. “It’s an art shop, not too far from here, as luck would have it. The man who runs the store? He knows just about everything, has a collection of supplies that you wouldn't believe. Whatever you need, I want you to go down there and tell him I sent you. He’ll take care of you and please, don't hold back. If you'd like… you can think that you're shopping for me, too.” She nods at the canvas.

Kara's breath is short, her eyes stinging. “I’m okay,” she says quickly. She wrinkles her nose as she fights tears. “I’m just happy.”

“Me too.” Lena leans forward, wraps her arms around her. “Happy Christmas, Kara.” She laughs softly. “Or happy Christmas Eve.”

“You too.” Kara keeps her arms careful around Lena, letting her heat radiate through her clothing to her fingertips. She feels the strands of Lena's hair against her cheek, that fabric of her dress so much softer than she'd think upon first glance.

Lena's fingers stroke her back and Kara melts into the touch, closing her eyes, letting herself absorb it. And then Lena's pulled back. She stays close. Heterochromatic eyes, blue and green, fixed on hers. The lights in the dark are like small flames casting a soft glow. Lena cups her face. Kara's heart beats wildly, trying to fly away from her. She thinks it'll move past her lips that Lena grazes her thumb over, tugging gently before she dips her face, like a bell flower, breath caressing Kara's lips.

Kara draws an unsteady breath as Lena leans in close. Kara's never kissed anyone more than once. She's broken noses. Broken hearts. Even James was under the influence of Myriad the first time. Lena’s going to kiss her. Kara has never wanted to kiss someone more. She turns her head before it can happen. Lena stops herself before her lips can touch Kara's cheek, fingertips releasing her as if having touched something ice cold. “I’m sorry.” The words are a broken, regretful whisper.

Kara can’t say anything. Can’t explain that she doesn't want their first kiss, maybe their only kiss, to be a lie. She can’t kiss her as Kara Danvers when Lena doesn’t know she’s Supergirl. She can’t betray her like that. “Don't be.”

Lena creates some distance between them, looking away for a long time. Kara stares at her nervous back. “I misread the situation. Or maybe I only saw what I wanted to see.” Kara twines her fingers, the air burning in her lungs. “I took advantage and I’m sorry.”

“You didn't take advantage.”

Lena sighs softly.

“Lena, I…” she stares at her back, wants to touch her, is afraid she'll hurt her if she does. The pale bruises on her skin from when Supergirl took her to the DEO remain. No. She can’t touch her. “If I led you on…” she bites her tongue, bows her head. Maybe, despite her best efforts, she has led her on. Alex is right. She hasn’t been careful with feelings. She hasn’t kept the proper distance. “What I feel…”

Lena looks back at her.

Kara meets her gaze, touches her glasses. Lena has seen her without them before. If she took them off, and explained, it would help resolve this. Or she could tell her that other truth. It wouldn’t be easy to reveal her feelings for Lena, but she could do it. But either scenario would be unfair without telling her everything. She still wants to be selfish; she still wants a place where she can be just Kara Danvers to someone who maybe loves her. “Um.”

“Kara… you don't have to explain.”

“But I do want to explain.”

“I believe you. But maybe _I’m_ unsure. As wont as I am to throw caution to the wind, I can’t bear the thought of losing your friendship. Whatever you can give…” a beat. “Whatever you _want_ to give? That's what I want.”

Kara swallows, sighs shakily. Lena nearly kissed her. What about what Lena wants? What about what Kara wants to give? What about all those things Kara Danvers wants that Supergirl won’t allow her to have? Her lives don't play well together. She smooths her hands over her knees. “I know. I know you'll always give me what I want. Maybe at your expense. That's…” she rubs her eyes beneath the glasses. “My feelings … Um. They're complicated. You mean so much to me. I wish I could be better. But what you want… I’m sorry if _I’m_ misreading the situation, but what I think you feel…and you can tell me if I’m wrong—” Lena says nothing, not verbally. Her eyes are dark with longing for… honesty, maybe. “It’s… beautiful.” _And I cherish it_. “But I can’t. I’m not able to give that to you.” Not right not. Maybe not ever. Not the way Lena deserves. She clears her throat and bites back her apology.

“I understand.” A long, remorseful silence hangs between them. “We can’t force feelings.”

It’s like she’s sinking. Kara looks at the floor, sees herself grounded. She can’t ever find that balance. She lies when she talks. She lies when she doesn’t talk. “I don't want things to change between us.” Even those words don’t capture everything.

“They won’t.” Her eyes shine, bright. “If you can forget I tried to kiss you.”

Kara laughs, closes her eyes. Opens them before she allows herself to imagine it. She can’t promise that. But if it would help Lena, she can pretend. “If that’s what you’d like.”

Lena smiles ruefully. Kara hears footsteps on the steps of the apartment building. It sounds like Maggie's weight. “Thank you for clearing things up for me. It’s been on my mind for too long. I don’t have to wonder anymore.” Kara's heart clenches painfully. “And on that note, I think I've used up all my courage for the next few years.”

Oh. There's a knock on the door. It must be Maggie. Why now? Lena relaxes. Is she grateful for the intrusion? Grateful for the chance to breathe? Kara stands. She goes to the door, away from Lena, feels herself shivering. Maggie smiles apologetically. “Hey, I’m sorry. I think I forgot—”

Lena's on her feet, at the door, phone in hand. “This?”

Maggie smiles, takes in the room, realizes they’re alone. “Thanks. Um. I'll leave you two to your night—”

“I was just heading out,” Lena says. “Is Sam outside?”

“No… we separated earlier. She and Ruby ran into some of her school friends.” Maggie shifts, looks between Lena and Kara.

“Do you mind if I walk out with you? I’ll call my driver.”

“Of course not. You know, I can give you a lift.”

Lena’s eyebrows shoot up, genuinely surprised. “Well that’s— but I have to stop at L-Corp first. I don’t want to impose. You’re sure?”

“Very,” Maggie smiles at Kara. “Thanks for tonight. And for holding on to this.”

“No problem,” Kara holds the door, keeps her head bowed. “Thank you for coming.” A beat. “You'll take care of Lena?”

Maggie smiles. “I think this one can take care of herself.”

Lena laughs, winks. “Good answer.” She slips her heels on. Kara watches her too closely. Watches her grab her purse, smiles reassuringly at Maggie when Kara sees her quizzical look. “Well.” Lena says. “That's it, isn't it?”

Yes. That’s it. That’s always it. Kara once told James that she’s never had romantic love. That she’d fight for it if she did. But she can’t fight for this. She swallows. “Um.”

Maggie looks between them. “Uh— hey, I’m going to start the car.” She says to them. “See you downstairs, Lena. Merry Christmas, Kara.”

“You too.” She watches her go. Looks at Lena. Why is it hard to say the words that have already been said? Why is the context so radically shifted? They’ve told each other ‘I love you’ before. But that was before mistletoe and lingering hugs. “Can I see you tomorrow?” Kara asks. Lena looks back at her. “We can… we can watch corny Christmas movies, or horror movies,” she says quickly, “if you'd like. Or … drawn out documentaries. I think the aquarium is open.” _Let me be with you._

“As tempting as that sounds…” she smiles. “I’m feeling a little… bashful. I need time. If you think I’m selfless… maybe give me this one day to be selfish? I’m not unused to holidays on my own. I'll be okay.”

Kara smiles quickly. “Yes. Of course.” She removed herself from Thanksgiving only weeks ago. It’s only fair to respect if Lena wants to do the same. “Of course. I— …”she breathes out. “I hope you have a great day.”

Lena smiles. “You too, Kara.”

Kara wants to hug her but Lena moves away. Kara watches her go, closes the door and looks around the apartment. Alone again.

X

Kara tidies the apartment. She turned down offers of help earlier in the evening. She wanted them to remember an easy night. She didn’t want them to work. She didn’t want them to linger. It was too much. Now Lena’s gone.

She sighs as she washes dishes, the television on in the background for company. She’s tired but she won’t cry. It isn’t the first time she’s lied to Lena. It may be the first time she’s seen that deep hurt in her eyes. She had an opportunity to be honest and she didn’t take it. She could have told Lena about her other self. She could have told her she feels the same, even if it scares her and she doesn’t know what to do with it. She knows she could never be a fulfilling partner for Lena. Lena would be bored and disappointed with her inexperience. With her inability to just be normal. She hears a crack. There are jagged edges scattered in the sink, like broken teeth. The dishes shattered in her hands without her noticing. Her hands remain intact. She’s not a miracle. She’s not a god. She’s just…wrong.

She cleans up the mess and sets it inside a box, afraid some homeless person or garbage collector will cut themselves on it if they go through her trash. She’s taping the box shut when she hears the breaking news alert on the television. She stares at the screen, unsure of what she’s looking at. Lord Technologies has been branded with the Worldkiller symbol. Helicopters swoop over the skies, their searchlights cutting through the night. Kara sees that figure, cloaked in black, hovering atop of the building, waiting.

Her breath freezes in her chest. Why now…? She can’t not go. This is a chance to make things right. Now she knows who Worldkiller is. She’ll be ready. She picks up the phone. Another crack splinters the screen. It still works. She brings it to her ear.

_Kara?_

“Alex. She’s at Lord Technologies.”

Alex doesn’t have to ask. _Wait for me. Wait for us._

“I can’t let her get away again. I promised I’d let you know. I didn’t tell you I’d wait. I’m going.”

_Kara..!_

Kara ends the call. She puts her suit on. She looks at her apartment, the holiday lights still twinkling. She passes the mistletoe on the balcony and flies.

 

X

 

Supergirl lands atop the Lord Technologies building. Worldkiller hovers above her. Her black cape is still, as if the elements themselves don’t dare touch her.

“I knew you would come for him,” Worldkiller says.

Supergirl looks up at her. “I didn’t come for him. I came for you.”

Worldkiller smiles. “He’s hiding from me. For now.” She lifts her head, breathes in the night sky. “I can smell him. I could smell you and your fear, racing here, Kara Zor-El.” The helicopter swoops around them. Supergirl clenches her fists, waits for Worldkiller to make her move, but she ignores the helicopter.

She steels herself before speaking. “How do you know that name?” Worldkiller doesn’t answer. “Where did you come from?”

“From Krypton, same as you.”

She knows that. She said it before. “Then where have you been? Why surface now?” Worldkiller stares back at her. “You’re no devil.”

“The Devil isn’t real. The Devil is who these people invoke, to absolve themselves of sin. Their sin is their own. I will be the one to eradicate it. I am Reign.”

Coville’s words come back at her. _Her rise will come at the fall of the righteous and She will reign unless You stand and smite Her._ Supergirl tries to still her battering heart. “I want you to stop what you’re doing. It doesn’t have to come to this,” Supergirl says. Reign looks back at her, that same smile dancing on her lips. “There are so few of us. We want the same thing. To keep the world safe. We should work together.”

“We are not the same. I will not so easily abandon my mission. You are lost and your judgment is clouded. I see clearly. This world has sunken into chaos and sin. You have abetted it with your absence and failure. I was sent here for a reason. I have a purpose.” Supergirl exhales softly. “I will do what you cannot.”

Supergirl shakes her head. “I won’t let you hurt anyone else. Stand down.”

“Will you try to stop me, the way you tried to stop me with Morgan Edge? I saved thousands with his death. You? You killed innocents trying to save that criminal.”

Supergirl fights to not let the words stick. She can’t fall into that trap now. She can’t indulge in her own despair. She wanted to find a better path. She wanted to handle this peacefully. Maybe that’s not possible. “If you won’t surrender, I’ll make you surrender.”

“So full of hubris. Just like the righteous Kryptonians who feared and spurned my makers. Worshipping false gods as they watched our planet suffocate with shame and burn from memory. They remain arrogant. Zor-El is under the mistaken delusion that you are a god. I am a weapon of destruction. Divine justice. I was not made to question. But I will show him the truth.”

How does Reign know her name? How does she know her father’s name? “Who are you?” She asks, words tight. Dread starts to needle its way into her. She thought she knew all the shameful aspects of her family legacy. Is there more to be uncovered? Is this Reign some part of it? She will not allow herself to go unsteady. “Tell me who you are.”

“Enough talk. Do you oppose me, Kara Zor-El?”

She grits her teeth. “Yes.”

“Then I will show you no mercy.”

X

They plunge through the skies, Reign’s arms locked in a vice around her. Supergirl struggles but cannot free herself. Reign careens them through buildings, as Supergirl’s heart beats more frantically. They destroy not just stone and cement but holiday parties, emptied out art gallery exhibits. They crash into a bar. Men and women in ugly Christmas sweaters scatter, screaming. Bottles of alcohol burst. Guns come out. A beam falls and Supergirl catches it before it crushes some of the patrons. “Go!” She yells at them.

Weak. Emotional. They turn, see Reign blocking the front and run the other way, bartenders pointing the exits out. Reign presses her advantage but this time Supergirl sees her coming, shifts to avoid her fist. It hits the beam behind it, splintering it into toothpicks. The roof is coming down around them.

It must be a millionth of a second, all Supergirl needs to clench her fingers around Reign’s cape. She’s hurled out into the night, shattering the bar window, skipping like a rock onto the streets. Reign rolls a few times, before stopping. Stronger than she thought. She sits up, gets to her feet, brushing the glass away.

Supergirl flies out, setting a man down who swiftly runs. She marches toward Reign, eyes burning furious. The dust of destroyed buildings cling to her suit. “What are you doing?” Her voice shakes with the righteous indignation. “Your recklessness could kill innocent people!”

“You endanger them by refusing to submit.”

Reign flies to her and swings. Supergirl dodges the first hit, but the second blow connects, fist pummeling into Supergirl’s stomach. The breath goes out of Supergirl, but she doesn’t double over. Soon. She doesn’t have time to smile. Supergirl uppercuts her, knocking her head back before she can gloat. Her teeth chatter. Pain is… unexpected. More a nuisance than any real liability. Like that thing banging in her mind, some scream that’s being smothered.

Others are leaving bars, opening their windows to look out at them. That panic in those blue eyes. “Everyone stay back,” Supergirl says, “I’ll—”

Reign dashes to her again, a punch to her stomach, to her chest, the side of her head. Supergirl looks dazed, and Reign sees it in her eyes, that realization that she has met her superior. Now she knows that she is no ordinary Kryptonian. There is fear. She will—

Supergirl growls, eyes glowing. Reign stumbles back, her chest on fire, heat vision singeing her suit. Is that the stench of burning flesh? She's accustomed to her conquests bursting into flames, turning into ash. Reign grounds herself, ready to fire back but Supergirl rushes, taking hold of her cape, flinging her up into the sky. Reign flies. The world grows small beneath her. That streak of blue and red in the night follows. Too soon Supergirl has her in a chokehold, squeezing, twisting her arm behind her back. “Stop this!”

Reign jerks away, rams her elbow back. Supergirl’s grip loosens as the air is knocked out of her. Reign turns, grabs the scruff of her suit. She hits her face, once, twice, three times, until Supergirl’s disoriented. Reign squeezes a hand around her neck, barreling them down like missiles.

 

X

 

The ground explodes beneath them, water and gas pipes breaking. A burst of water and fire belch from the ground. Cars flip, another screeches, barely avoiding falling into the sinkhole.

Supergirl’s ears ring. It sounds like she's underwater. She looks around, begging her eyes to adjust. They don’t usually have to adjust. Another blow lands on her shoulder. She isn’t sure whether her shoulder has dislodged. Her arm is useless at her side. It has dislodged. She’s dizzy. It hurts. Everything hurts. She can’t stop. She can’t slow down. She pops her shoulder back into place with a whimper. Something Alex taught her long ago. _You know I won’t ever need that, right?_ She was wrong. Alex was right. Where is she? Where’s Reign—

Fingers wrap around her ankle. Reign flings her out and Supergirl barely catches herself, feet touching the ground beneath her knees give away. For a split second she simply crawls on hands and knees before she gets to her feet. She stops, mortified. L-Corp. Maggie and Lena, look on in horror. Lena needed to stop here. Maggie grabs Lena’s arm, pulls her back. Supergirl hears Maggie’s voice, distorted in her still ringing ears. _There’s nothing we can do—_. Yes. Kara told her to keep her safe. Maggie’s doing that.

Reign is on her again, a hit to her torso, a fist crunching into her face. Supergirl sees blood splatter on the pavement, hears and feels her ribs crack. How is this happening? Another kick sends her reeling back. Be cold, Alex said, be alien. There’s blood in her mouth. She scrambles up, Reign moves toward her, animal like, cold and focused. “Kneel,” Reign sneers.

Supergirl growls. “Never.” She forces herself to stand straight. Reign leaps, coming down hard and just missing her. Her legs are unsteady. They trade blows. She’s watched life pass by in slow motion, now she can’t keep up. Reign’s movements are a flurry of shadows, pounding her back. Her vision is fading in and out. There’s sweat on her brow and lip. She tastes the salt. It’s been so long. Only Kryptonite should do this to her. _You can’t always count on your strength, Kara._ Something else Alex said. Something she thought didn’t apply to her.

She blocks some of the blows, but they’re quickly replaced by faster, more vicious punches. Her knees start to give out again and without want or wish or will she finds herself on her knees. _Stand up. Stand up._ Her body doesn’t obey. “Better,” Reign says. Her knee comes up in a flash, into Supergirl’s face. Her nose breaks, blood bursting from it like a dam. This is what she does to people without thinking. This is what Reign has done to her, without effort.

She starts to sit but Reign kicks her back. Supergirl doesn’t recognize the sounds coming out of her own mouth. She bites them back. She has to get up. She sees the people all around her now, the terror on their faces. _Ka…. We’re …. trying to get to…but you keep— moving— Just hang in—_

Alex on the comm. Breaking up. Tonight they parted with the civility of strangers. What if that’s what Alex remembers? What if Alex blames herself? Supergirl plants her palm on the ground, feels the grain of the pavement, is fighting to get up as Reign loosens a parking meter. Her breath comes out in shaky shudders. She’s pushing herself to her feet when the meter clobbers into her head. She goes down. Black. Peace. Stillness. For who knows how long. Too long. Noise is muffled. She opens her eyes and the meter comes down again. It’s like her head is splitting open. Another hit and her eardrum bursts. Her skull has cracked. Blood turns her hair red. People are screaming, others crying. She thinks she hears Lena’s voice. Supergirl blinks her eyes. Red beads her eyelashes.

Reign looks at the parking meter, bent and useless now, throws it aside. Supergirl kicks the legs out from under her. Reign goes down and Supergirl is on her, frantic and desperate. She hits her but each strike hurts her fists. This is what it must feel like for humans that attack her. As if she were punching into concrete. Pure metal. Her bones crack. Be cold, Alex said, be Kryptonian. _You’ll have to put her in the ground,_ Alex said. She made Supergirl promise. Supergirl hits and hits, Reign’s head burying into the ground beneath her. She doesn’t break, but she bleeds. Supergirl sees the drops around her mouth and cheeks. No. Not Reign’s blood. Her blood. Reign’s eyes flash red and Supergirl’s flung back. She wobbles in the air for a moment before falling unsteadily. Her suit is charred, the House of El symbol unrecognizable.

Cars are on fire. Reign grabs one of the doors that’s still flaming. Is this what people feel when they see her? She sees her reflection in the building glass, soaked in blood and water, caked in dirt. She turns back to Reign and sees the flaming car door headed toward her. She has to move. It takes out her legs. She spins, her eyes barely taking anything in. She sees the anguish on Lena’s face, the gleam in her eyes, but that can’t be right. Lena doesn’t cry. Maggie drags her away.

Reign blasts her again, setting her on fire. A moment later she’s blasted into the sky, burning and delirious. She can’t find the energy to put herself out. Things are becoming hazy. Hazier when Reign clamps a hand around her throat, too sharp and visceral, dragging her up into the hollow of night and flinging her down atop of L-Corp. Supergirl twitches. Breathes raspy. She coughs blood. It’s too bright. She’s not supposed to bleed.

Reign lands next to her, untouched. She moves to her with purpose. Reign who was sent here for a reason. “I’m going to kill you,” she menaces, anger and contempt working their way into her voice at last.

Yes. Probably. Supergirl balls her fists, powering herself to be on all fours. She has to stand up but she can’t stand up. “You don’t scare me.” Did she even say the words? Were they just her imagination? Is she walking in Rao’s light even now?

Reign scoops her up as if she were nothing. “Zor-El bet on the wrong daughter.” Supergirl can’t process the words. “You are no god,” she hisses, as if it means something, “just as I am no devil. All I am is truth. And judgment. And death.” She holds her out over the ledge of the building.

The air is bitterly cold. It’s a long drop. Kara knows she’s going to die. All this time…thinking it didn’t matter, wanting death. Wanting rest. Here it is. She thinks of Alex and Lena, her friends. She turned away from everyone she loved and left everything unfinished. She wants to live. She wants to live but it’s too late. Her eyes burn but nothing comes out. Maybe there’s dirt in her eyes. Kara gulps her breath, tries to loosen Reign’s hold, hands reaching uselessly to touch her face, to push her away. Reign lets her. All she does is smear her own blood on Reign’s face. The last person she will touch is this Kryptonian. The world comes in and out, fading like a flickering light. She can’t stop shivering. “Your time has passed. Now I’ll be the one to reign.”

Reign releases her.

Supergirl falls, hands up, like those little girls who imitate her, pretending to fly. She pretends to fly, before she falls back like a ragdoll, watching the stars get smaller.

Reign peers down from above, then turns away, uninterested. Her foe has been vanquished. She’s going to die. She’ll see her mother. Her father. Astra. Mon-El. For years she has dreamed of reuniting at their side. But she won’t see Winn or James, Maggie, Sam. She won’t see Cat, nor Alex. She won’t see Lena. Lena who’s going to figure it out when she dies and she never sees Kara Danvers again. She’s always thought of writing her a letter in case this happened. She didn’t do that. So Lena will be left with anger and regret. If only she could have left her with something beautiful. If only she’d been honest.

The lights of the city swim past her. The skies above look on indifferently. Her mouth is iron, it’s pooling in her throat. She can’t breathe. All there is is agony. And tears.

When she lands it stops.


End file.
